All style and no substance. The shit-on-purpose production style holds this record back in my opinion. That and the fact that some of the songs are probably twice as long as they should be. All that said, a fun rockin' punked out death romp that's enjoyable at least one time through.
Remember when I said it was way too hot? Well guess what? It's fucking hotter now. I've got the it's hot as fuck and I want to eat dinner but don't want to cook it because having a box emitting 400 degree heat into my home sounds like some sort of torture. It's too hot to pass on any sort of information. You don't care anyway. You just use me for my links. But you see that face on that album cover? That is a man attuned with the riff. Pay attention.
Maybe you are a smarty pants and you already know all about The Bootlicker, part of Melvins weird trilogy thing they did. They did a lot of weird things. This album is Melvins playing some tantric Om type stuff. It's trippy mane.
Double feature because I've been pretty juiced on Melvins lately, a phenominon that will come to a raging head September 6th when they play with Big Business. Much like said performance, this album is "Melvins Lite" which essentially just means it's King Buzzo, Dale Crover, and Trevor Dunn. No business dudes. No double drum kit.
It took my awhile to formulate just how I felt about this record. There are a couple tracks that I'll come back to, but so me of them are pretty snoozeworthy. Not enough heavy for my rotten desensitized pallete but plenty of badassery to be had in the riff department.
IT'S SO FUCKING HOT. WHY IS IT SO HOT. THE SUN IS LIKE A HEAT LAMP HANGING TEN FEET ABOVE MY HEAD AND I'M NOT EVEN OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW.
Anyway, here's some reggae. Sure, this isn't the usual fare around here, but I'm into this record. I actually checked this album out because John Cardiel recommended it. Not directly, of course. I was watching the very cool documentary 'Epicly Later'd' and when asked what his favorite album was, he responded with Barrington Levy's Run Come Ya. I've recently been delving into the world of reggae, dancehall, etc, so I thought I'd give it a chance. It's a pretty nice middle ground between reggae and dub, just enough weirdness, reverb, and bass to make it pleasing. I really can't stand most reggae, but this is pretty decent.
Was that story worth typing? In hind sight, probably not. But you read it, and you should know by now that I don't really use the backspace key around here. You'll never get that time back. I'm not sorry.
Even though my mortal vessel is festering with disease, cheap beers and Thrash Weekend beckon. Chapel is a very cool blackened speed metal band from Canada. This is their first LP. It is pretty good.
For those of you that don't know, I live in Seattle, Washington. I always have except for a brief window of time in which I ventured to the Bay Area. I found it pleasant, but yearned for the crushing bleakness of the Pacific Northwest eventually. If you want to see the good part of California, check out the bay. Anyway, I've been getting in touch with my weirdo Northwest roots and listening to all the music that I denied myself when I was 16 and only liked to listen to extremely aurally challenging "music" that made my parents mad. When you reach this point in your personal development, there are two paths you can take. The first, you eventually come around and check out all the cool stuff you hated for no reason. The second, you eventually start collecting harsh noise and power electronics cassette tapes. Don't do that one.
Mudhoney is very cool and heavy. Super heavy rock music is usually fun.
Attend closely, dear reader, lest a tendril of another's shadow impede your view. You have stumbled into my internet basement. I have really stupid taste in music and I post whatever I want. The format of this blog is none of your business. It's really become more of a stream of conciousness type affair over the years, so you're just going to have to deal with it I'm afraid.
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