BDTD 139 bv-id
expanding doom. black dogs. climbing over wrought iron gates. cemeteries - nylstoch, mel and matt. - Massive downer/deformed solo guitar lurch with muffled F/X-fucked vocals that sound like someone with a slowed-down reel-to-reel inserted in their skull and jacked into their tongue and the kind of railroading steel strings that match Heather Leigh circa Jailhouse Rock for miasmic post-MB psychedelic Industrial blues. While the vocalist/guitarist are caught in the midst of a waking dream somewhere in the middle-distance someone else shows up on drums right next to the microphone and keeps threatening to break into the kinda peg-leg bandstand rocking of Doodles or early Jandek, giving the whole deal the unlikely appeal of a Scorces-plays-Hawkwind deal w/an autistic lead singer and the drummer from The Clean playing with both arms in slings. Which is to say this is a pretty outré side from a label that pretty much invented the modern sound of confusion. Lucky you; highly recommended. - c. David Keenan 2010