Andrew Keller started making music in his bedroom a few years ago. Personal and naïve, Baby Bird, his first album, came out shortly thereafter. When people started to listen, Keller scrambled to find a way to make all the parts come together in a live setting. Thus, Snow Caps was born. These days, Snow Caps' songs are still incubated in a bedroom, and they grow more cohesive and closer with each practice, each show. Snow Caps' forthcoming album, Moonbreak , a minimalist pop album of unaffected songs made of equal parts joy and terror, continues in a direction that only leads back to the naïvete and personal nature of Keller's earlier recordings.
"Clocking in at a brief 27 minutes, Moonbreak nonetheless feels like a full-bodied album. Keller has a knack for strong melodies, and he gets right to the point and gets out before any one song wears out its welcome. This makes the album seem full of ideas despite most of its tracks coming in under the three-minute mark."
PopMatters, April 5th, 2011
"Snow Caps creates light, playful bedroom folk-pop. The band is Andrew Keller of Hermit Thrushes, and Moonbreak is the result of more than two years of recording by Keller, spanning several rooms in a Philadelphia home. The album flickers between full folk-pop songs and instrumental ones. It is intricate, beautiful, a little odd at times, but always unique - just what you'd expect from album art like this."
Fense Post, March 16th, 2011
"Keller's one-man approach to composition ceases to erase ambition from his mind. Rather than flaunting amateurism and mistaking it for charm, many of these passages are meticulously layered; exhaustive, yet endearing. An amiable melody remains at the heart of a song while supplied with a grand yet tractable aggregate of layers-- be it vocal harmonization, imbricate guitars, or makeshift percussion. Though quirky and ostensibly self-recorded, these characteristics aren't the criterion."
Olive Music, February 22nd, 2011
"Exuberant, melodious, adventurous and full of the present. Snow Caps is like looking out from the window of someone's flat who you just happened to meet through a mutual friend. As the sun shines in through the drapes, you smell something musty and familiar. They pull out a Peruvian churango from beneath some covers and begin playing. Your toes start wriggling in your shoes, your fingers fidget and caress something knotty and wooden and you forget you hardly know this person."
Land Magazine, March 14th, 2011
