Thursday, December 04, 2008

SMOKING MENTHOLS AND EATIN' KOBE BEEF NEVER TASTED SO GOOD -- AN AFTERNOON MEDITATION ON PUSSYGUTT AND STORY OF RATS Despite my undying love for the Virgin Prunes and the sporadic donning of black eyeliner before I head down to the local Key Foods, I'm not that 'dark' of a guy. Although I'm obviously down with the drone, Sunn and all their followers never made sense to me. It just seemed they took a great sound and dumbed it down for metalers and other mouth breathing types by adding alotta horseshit to it. Whenever I see a black record cover with silver ink, I usually fall asleep by the time I have a chance to laugh at the band name and/or record title. Hey...whatever floats your rod in the water and puts asses in the seats, I guess.

When and if I do throw some sounds on in this bunker these days, it's usually something I'm familiar with and/or something that doesn't require too much listener/sound participation. Alittle A.F. when the tub needs a hard scrub, some Dusty when some wine is being sipped and spilled, etc. New vibrations don't get too much spin time 'round here, but once in awhile someone will slip me something they think I'd like and I throw it on and by god, they're right to think I'd dig it. Such is the case with this double LP entitled 'Sea of Sand', a collaborative effort between Boise, Idahos' Pussygutt and Seattles' Story of Rats. I was firstly taken with how beautiful the package was. A jet black gatefold with paste-on artwork that must of been glued on by the most OCD person in the universe; totally immaculate. The sounds that take up both these slabs are certainly heavier than a two ton turd, but it's an effortless vibration that seems to just naturally permeate from the sound. The first record in the set sounds like it was one continuous jam spread out between the sides. For most of it, the amps humm and purr as if they themselves (not the humans in the room) are actually waiting for the riffs and drums to kick in. When they do show themselves, they're perfectly brief and direct and burrow back into the clouds of roar to await their next outing. Since I didn't look at the clock once while both of these sides heaved mighty grey smoke from their surfaces, I'm supposing this record must be good.

An actual violin played like it actually should be played opens Side C while field recordings of dry leaves crunch off in the distance. Somewhere down the line (Once again, I lost track of time) strings ring open and randomly hang/float, making me think more of the Dead C. than former members of False Liberty in bathrobes. Side D is heavy, slow and minimal but in a pretty engaging way. It might be that my ears are tuned differently, but when I hear this slow sludgy thing done right, I envision the songs that closed out both Infest 7"s going on forever like I wished them to all those years ago. Somewhere in all the strumming and clanging, in comes the ringing of bells and the quacking of ducks in the far distance and the record is over.

It's been awhile since I've actually got lost in a record; let alone a double set. These people have actually put together a record that's an experience; something you can't just make the bed and sweep the floor to. Put it on, sit down and take it in, chief.

P.S. -- Do not handle this cover after the eating of greasy foods. You'll just ruin it.

Monday, December 01, 2008

SOME OF MY FAVORITE STOLEN THINGS PART ONE...The quote below was stolen from Ronny Little's Barebones Hardcore blogspot. The interview was posted back in '05, but it was ripped off by me circa now...

Porcell -- One of the first times I ever went to CB's was to see Agnostic Front (before United Blood was out), Death Before Dishonor (Mark Supertouch and Mike Judge's first band), Balls (Don Fury's band) and Skinhead Youth (Alex Cause For Alarm's skinhead band with Raybeez on vocals). I took the train in from my nice upper middle class whitebread neighborhood and let me tell you, that was the sketchiest, scariest crowd I had seen in my life at that point. I was practically the only kid in the pit with hair! Skinhead Youth came out and played racist songs like "Black Plague" and had a song about fag bashing, which they dedicated to Harley (who wasn't even in the Cro Mags at that point but was somehow still the star of the scene). I was like "I'm not in the suburbs anymore man!" While DBD was playing, I was moshing and I felt something hitting me repeatedly in the back of the head. At first I thought it was random elbows until I turned around and saw Jimmy Gestapo in construction gloves staring me down, I guess he didn't like my skater cut. Then AF took the stage, and for some odd reason Matt Dillon (of "There's Something About Mary" fame) was in the crowd, he was all punked out like a poser with a trenchcoat, boots and a bandana around his head. AF dedicated a song to "that f'ing faggot Matt Dillon who better get his ass back uptown if he knows what's good for him!" Needless to say, he left. AF were so incredible, people were losing their minds singing along, it was all these sketchy inner city kids who lived on the streets and you could tell this was all they had, it was intense. Then to top it off, as I was exiting, a guy named Tony Ultraviolence beat up a skinhead named Steve Hate with a wine bottle, splitting his head open. High school seemed really boring on Monday morning.