Garage Rock does exactly what is says on the tin. Teenagers get together in their parents garage or basement and boil rock and roll down to its basic essence - not through some abstract, lofty, bourgeoise, delicate distillation process - rather through the primitivism of their abilities. Good garage bands somehow conjure something out of nothing, grander than the sum of their parts, using methods invisible to onlookers. There are millions of garage bands, and as a result it can be harder to stand out. The Parrots seem to be doing a great job of garnering attention. We do however get incredibly confused when one of these groups is picked up/distributed by a bigger label and somehow the magic of three-chord guitar riffs next to the leftover car oil and bin juices ends up transplanted in the ostentacious lairs of cynically clean capitalists. This music video is near-perfect. It keeps The Parrots in context next to the dustbin - helping us to forget the difficult questions mentioned above. You sit on your own next to your growing record collection and watch girls with a glimmer in their eyes chased by guys in their Streetcar Named Desire/Rebel Without A Cause white t-shirts and American blue jeans. Fires glitter in the skatepark and friends drink shots, take drugs, have sex, have fun. Oh to be young! It is a pure example of the real message of garage rock - that wonder, beauty and magic can be found anywhere and everywhere in the gritty day-to-day chaos of life.