Sunday, 28 March 2010
Do you like wallowing in muck? Sonically speaking of course. I know I do. Do your earholes expand with delight when you hear such names as Noothgrush or Facedowninshit, Grief or Charger, Fleshpress or Eyehategod? Mine do. In short, does sludge float yr boat? If so, I suggest you get yr electronic arse over to Hebosagil's myspace where you can download their last two records, Colossal and Cosmic, both titanic slabs of massively distorted mindrot that should slake yr sludge-gland's thirst for filth nicely.
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Earlier today, if asked, I would have said my favourite song/album title of the moment was Wizards 'n' Shit by Big Swifty*. Then I downloaded this...
Now that is what I fucking call an album title.
It's by mid-90s Japanese maniacs Coa, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone into Lightning Bolt, Melt Banana, Altered States, Naked City, Ruins, early Boredoms or who has a severe case of Attention Deficit Disorder.
*Aka Shri Swifty & The Mandali Of Mantra, whose sole album Canals Of The Atlantean Plain is one of the great unacknowledged masterpieces of tonefloating kosmische blug**, criminally ignored by everyone, possibly because they were from Florida, possibly because they had such a fantastically stupid name. If you like electric-era Pelt, or Tony Conrad, or wibbling French and German freaks, or Taj Mahal Travellers then I suggest you go here and download the fucker.
Also, if anyone has a copy of Big Swifty's album Akroasis for sale or download or is willing to burn me copy, I would be eternally grateful...
**Blug: Similar to mung, only with more drooling.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Teeth Mountain's self titled album (2008 Night People) is a record I've had knocking around on cdr for a while, but hadn't really taken much notice of before. For some reason, I picked up the LP version of it today whilst idly browsing, having completely forgotten that I already owned it, and bought it on a whim. I'm fucking glad I did. Apart from the fact that it sounds a lot fucking better on vinyl than on cd, I haven't got as much sheer fucking joy from a record in ages. It's glorious bouncy mung of the highest order.
Imagine Can and Pelt fighting in a sack. On spacehoppers. Well, it's a big sack. Big enough for Mick Flower and Tony Conrad and Faust to jump inside and join in the fun, whilst Henry Flynt pumps nitrous oxide in from outside and Parson Sound get pissed in the woods nearby. It's got honking great string drones and looping banjos and Liebezeit grooves played by stoned lemurs. Not to mention harmonicas and chord organs and much tape-fuckery. And it looks like this:
That's also what it sounds like. Just like that. Only more Appalachian. And not a little German. Also, note the enormous yellow cat at the bottom of the sleeve. It looks really angry, and not just because it's been dyed yellow and is having it's ear fondled by a huge disembodied red hand. It's angry because you haven't listened to this record. A record which sounds like it was played by giant hillbilly meerkats with a penchant for Krautrock who live in a multicoloured cave and worship idols of Arnold Dreyblatt's Orchestra Of Excited Strings. Probably whilst bouncing up and down on spacehoppers and dribbling a bit. With the cat egging them on. Why wouldn't you want to hear a record that sounds like that? Exactly. So go and get it, and the big yellow cat won't wreak it's horrifying revenge on an unsuspecting world.