BETRAYERS

"Next up were a new-ish local act, the Betrayers. This was my first time seeing them and I enjoyed every moment. With limited space, the crowd was dancing to their surf-infused rock and roll and they even played a well-executed cover of The Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” which had the crowd singing along. Attendance peaked during this set, which means that my usual tactic of slithering to the front like a snake in the grass failed, even though I tried with all my might. I picked up a set of Betrayers buttons from the merch table after the set. I enjoyed the packaging: five buttons packed into a pot-leaf-speckled dime bag." - Beatroute

"Next up were a new-ish local act, the Betrayers. This was my first time seeing them and I enjoyed every moment. With limited space, the crowd was dancing to their surf-infused rock and roll and they even played a well-executed cover of The Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” which had the crowd singing along. Attendance peaked during this set, which means that my usual tactic of slithering to the front like a snake in the grass failed, even though I tried with all my might. I picked up a set of Betrayers buttons from the merch table after the set. I enjoyed the packaging: five buttons packed into a pot-leaf-speckled dime bag." - Beatroute

The Betrayers is a former bedroom solo project of Edmonton singer and guitarist Travis Sargent that recently turned into a full on band. On their latest Treat Me Mean EP, The Betrayers weave 1960s garage pop between bits of surf, psych, and punk properties. The EP is brief but flaunts the band's crisp, fundamental rhythms and infectious melodies that transform Sargent's tongue-in-cheek memoirs into habit forming pop-pills.

Treat Me Mean reels you in first with its hasty rhythm swathed in masochistic melodrama and a free-spirited organ; Call Me When You're Blue is a more full bodied track with a buzzier sound flecked with harmonized vocals and perfectly placed chants; and Rise serves as an ideal finale with its drifting, mournful drone that sounds like the bumble in your brain when heading towards the edge.

The EP is a solid introduction to a band bloated with talent and a love for the kind of pop that feels good when it spits on you and calls you names. - Ground Floor Go

The Betrayers is a former bedroom solo project of Edmonton singer and guitarist Travis Sargent that recently turned into a full on band. On their latest Treat Me Mean EP, The Betrayers weave 1960s garage pop between bits of surf, psych, and punk properties. The EP is brief but flaunts the band's crisp, fundamental rhythms and infectious melodies that transform Sargent's tongue-in-cheek memoirs into habit forming pop-pills.

Treat Me Mean reels you in first with its hasty rhythm swathed in masochistic melodrama and a free-spirited organ; Call Me When You're Blue is a more full bodied track with a buzzier sound flecked with harmonized vocals and perfectly placed chants; and Rise serves as an ideal finale with its drifting, mournful drone that sounds like the bumble in your brain when heading towards the edge.

The EP is a solid introduction to a band bloated with talent and a love for the kind of pop that feels good when it spits on you and calls you names. - Ground Floor Go

Serial grinner Travis Sargent returns, this time with a cadre of cohorts who, from the cacophonous variety of their individual instruments and the unruly nonchalance of their collective demeanor, allow The Betrayers to expand from a bedroom recording solo nom-de-plume into a full-patch rock n’roll outfit, like a Biker gang asserting itself in a new territory. The opening title track hums along at breakneck brevity, pairing an irresistible melody to playfully masochistic lyrics while the clutter of guitars and organs threaten to explode out of the speaker. “Call Me When You’re Blue” offers a solid wave of summertime joy, punctuated by chant-along shouts, while the closing number, “Rise”, plods along resolutely like a downbeat pop dirge. If this gang can pack this much garage rock relish into an EP, I’d love to see what they could do with a full 12 inches.
-Jim Cumming, Argue Job
- Argue Job