The Birthday Suits, a duo of Japanese guys located in Minnesota (Hideo’s ex-Sweet Jap), are like an explosion of origami: Tight, precise aural folds. Paper’s just not paper any more. It’s got volume, mass, shape. Ducks and swans and shit. Sound’s not just sound any more: distortion/melody, noise/silence. Stop/fucking go! Buckminster Fuller and Stockhausen would be proud. Art makes sense to me when it’s loud as shit, sounds like it’s crashing through the front of the house, and then hands me a cup of noodles. Oh, my pretty face. Totally hits the spot.
–todd (Asian Man)