Shapes and Sizes inhabit a world in which humanity is stratified into three possible classifications; kindergarteners who don’t wear brand names, Dads who look like wild, forest dwelling warlocks, and undergrads who sometimes laugh aloud when alone in the school computer lab. If you don’t fit into one of these categories, we’re willing to bet you’re lying.
Few people live and breathe categorization, save for biologists and librarians, but it is essential to our understanding of the world. For instance, gypsy moths belong to order Lepidoptera, and orca whales belong to phylum Mammalia. On the shelf, Stephen King should come after Kafka, provided he hasn’t already been thrown in the free bin. In their day-to-day life, Shapes and Sizes enjoy order, neatness, and organization as much as any celibate dormouse librarian. Caila sings and keyboards and her closet is arranged according to season, with hand embroidered labels indicating name and phone number should any article of clothing temporarily disappear. Rory sings, guitars, and washes his hair on Tuesdays and Saturdays. He knows that if he does not maintain a rigorous personal hygiene schedule his art will suffer. John drums and, just as his rhythm is something to be counted on, so are his homemade chocolate chip cookies, which contain precisely nineteen semi-sweet morsels apiece. This ensures that there is no single superior or inferior baked good. Nathan sings and basses and in his kitchen (which he shares with Caila), inside his frigid fridge’s produce compartments, he has trained the fruit not to mix with the vegetables, for it might cause unnecessary confusion.
But their music is a different story, it’s a tasty mash up. It’s a whale with wings and a tomato that tastes like a strawberry. Shapes and Sizes wrote the melody that apexes in your brain when you were told for the first time that a tomato was really a fruit and that everything you’ve ever believed with certainty was a lie.
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