This endearingly humble foursome kicked out the proverbial jams with grit, earnestness, and more than a little punk seasoning at times. To their detriment, Finger's music was the providence of small indie imprints, meaning that even well intentioned "alternative" types simply weren't wise to these boys. That should have crossed over to fans of the Georgia Satellites and Americana leaning acts of the day. Pool and the much bigger mainstream pond, bearing a no-frills panache Theoretically, Finger could have drawn from both the indie punk
I did a piece on a clutch of their singles about five years ago (new, improved and expanded as of today I might add). But down the road a spell in Raleigh there was Finger (not to be confused with the Ryan Adams offshoot, The Finger). The renown college town was residence to forward thinking figureheads like Polvo and Archers of Loaf, exemplary singer/songwriters like Ben Folds, and of course the par excellence Superchunk. In terms of cutting edge cachet in North Carolina, Chapel Hill was where it was at during the '90s bar none. Props to Discogs for pics of the album jacket. The concluding "Letter" is a self-pitying, naval gazing lament that goes on for six-and-a-half ennui-laden minutes. "Bsusa" consists of Kib uttering the line "He was a butthole surfer" ad nauseam. The most muscular and genuinely passionate thing on here, "My Favorite Song" more or less lives up to it's title. Technically a quartet, W/W often strike me as more of a solo vehicle for prime mover Kib.
As a whole, Maybe sounds like it could have been a potential Dox Dixon production from back in the day. Wishing Wall practiced competent, if not always stimulating strummy guitar pop that skewed slightly due west of the dial.
I know zilch about these Hotlanta denizens, other than an ep preceded Maybe in '87. I'm not sure if any of you were "wishing" I would share this, but whatever the case, here it is.
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