I've seen the Hermit Kings' name out there recently, but never heard them until today. However, I'm glad this album found its way into my hands. Describing themselves as "the Ocean's Eleven of bands," they too are pushing the boundaries of genre definition and taking musical chances; chances that really pay off. Simultaneously explosive, delicate, unrestrained and patient, The Ghost of Galapagos follows no formula. It is delightfully schizophrenic in all aspects, just one of the reasons it reminds me of one of my favorite albums of all time, Ween's The Mollusk. The Hermit Kings call themselves "post folk," which is a fairly apt description of their genus. The vocal harmonies are reminiscent of Fleet Foxes or even occasionally the Avett Brothers, but somewhere in the musical DNA of The Hermit Kings is something flavored with the likes of Lou Reed, Sid Barrett-era Pink Floyd, or even Mute Math, with the result being its own distinctive madness; a buffet of foods you never knew existed, but can't stop eating.
— Brent Fleury
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