No Soy Bill Murray implies the existence of a "Soy" Bill Murray, much to the delight of some sarcasm-loving vegans, I'm sure. However, I've never ordered an impossible burger in my life, and don't intend to change my dietary habits on a hypothetical whim, so we'll be sticking with the All Beef Bill Murray for the rest of this review (you're welcome to sample alternatives and report back). As their name implies, No Soy Bill Murray is not, and has no affiliation with, the Evanston-born comedian-turned-actor, best known for his work in the seminal romance
Mad Dog and Glory, playing opposite Robert De Niro, rather they're actually from Honduras, not Illinois, and don't have much of a movie career to speak of (at least not yet!). To avoid any of you getting too lost in translation, the group's name literally translates to "I'm Not Bill Murray," which may bust the ghost of some of your expectations concerning the level of schlubby, throwaway repartee the band is likely to display, but that's not my problem, I don't care, and I'm moving on.
Their first and only record was released last year- 2025's Error, Fatal Inferno-, and it is a psychedelic shindig fit for the end of days: smooth, relaxing, and steamy, like sunbathing on the charred exposed rim of a gaping hell mouth as it belches tropical-temperature vapors into the atmosphere. The low-key radiance of their floating grooves, the solar-ray-emulating weave of guitar work, and refreshingly lustrous and lucid melodies will almost make you forget the imminent and immediate dangers of surfing on the landslide of modern material and social decline, as experienced across the globe (but particularly in the good ol' US of A). There are really worse (and possibly more deadly) mistakes you could make today than giving
Error, Fatal Inferno a spin- it's certainly less of a macabre blunder than
The Dead Don't Die.
