Jul 16, 2009

You sometimes read reviews where the reviewer goes on about how the record is so good it makes him or her want to break shit (I remember reading a Hank Rollins piece about how the first time he heard the Stooges’ Raw Power, he was working construction and he started throwing 2 x 4s all around the place) but what about a record that makes you want to smash something, and the first thing you want to smash is the hi-fi that’s actually playing the record? Imagine a screamo record that screams about cutting itself and black blood, black halls, black hearts, blacked-out houses and blacked-out eyes, then quits screaming for a minute while the guitar gets all undistorted and pretty, setting you up for the punch of the screaming going back on, then the screaming goes back on, and sometimes a lady talks while the man is screaming and then the lady screams too, and it’s like this constant seesaw between the quiet setup and the anguished yelling and it sure does piss you off and you wonder, “How come they can’t at least scream about something happy or funny? I’m certain it’s not physically impossible to scream about meatloafs or beanbag chairs or turtles.” So you’re just about to eject the CD when a track comes on with the setup music for the background of a rap, which just tears it, and that’s when you almost punch the stereo in the face, but you pull up when you remember you still have to listen to Dan Melchior on there. That’s what sometimes happens to me, anyway.

 –doug (Hyperrealist)