Mar 15, 2008

Crazy, noisy, zingy shit out of Chicago that seems to be forever detonating miniature nuclear bombs in hidden pockets of the vinyl. The guitar sounds like it’s powered by a metal blade attached to a blender and the vocalist seems like he’s in a perpetual state of strangulation with feet skittering to get traction back on the top of the chair in order to loosen the noose. Nice. I’d put this in league with the Tyrades – for pure shoelace-holding-it-together wreck-the-place-fantastic gumption – and the Lost Sounds for the ability to make a form of garage music that’s otherworldly, atmospheric, and simultaneously caustic and catchy. 

 –todd (Criminal I.Q.)

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