Matthew Proctor aka the Cattle Decapitator aka PoNY paYRoLl BoNEs writes:
A Butter-Fly Eaten Horse Head carves flood instrumentals of heavy psychedelic anti-bluesy blues wrought from an ugly misery glow. The music suggests a soul in a splintered state while pondering an old boarded up factory jutting on a muddy, molasses river bank.
The 4 song cycle thematically takes one through the death grievances of love. The songs usually pace ghostly and mysteriously by only two relentless guitars. The strings melt and forge a ritual of cleansing. The electrical instrument sculpting is deceptively intense.
Dislocation of the Weak opens with existential dread suggested by a doleful progression of notes. Intermingled sounds bring about light by leaving dark swallowing disruption, akin to leaving a water mark where a flood had reached.
The Last Argument paces out space with imagined contours of waterfalls. In actuality, the argument in question is really the lingering aftereffects of a wrathful turmoil. The songs calm reflection betrays irony of anger and despairs clash.
But Youre my Misery Cloud envelopes the listener with massive feedback sustain. This melts into a see saw clean guitar rhythm while alternating with dirty river fuzz tones. The song is much more of an anxious mood from the previous offerings.
Insomnia ends the song cycle with a bubbling motif similar to the repetitive hellish sensation that insomnia is.
This is not goddamn bullshit rock! The compositions unfurl subtle fury into dark ravines infused with twilights embers.//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Neil Hamburger says: I prefer the sounds of the Big Bands, such as the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra, to this///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Jesi Langdale says:
i would describe it as low down heroin/acid rock////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Miss Informed of My Obscene Baby says: it sounds like in a Womb.
It's a Womb with a view. you're a total psycho and yeah... that's a turn on////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Chublaze of Deep Water Culture says: lo-fi high energy, experimental noise grunge from the future that travels via time machines to rape ear canals of the present day earth dwellers////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Sarah Crawford aka prosac says: its like somebody's nightmare, like LSD in hell, like Rosemary's baby's first words, or like lost souls clashing or complaining. sounds like a weekend abortion////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////mark of Solar Wimp says: it sounds twisted & awesome////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////sean carnage says: Single Mothers seem to be cut from the same cloth as Caroliner Rainbow, early Butthole Surfers and weird side of post-Syd Pink Floyd. I also hear audiophonic analogies to those jarring acoustic breakdowns that Kraut rockers like Faust used to throw into the middle of their albums
New album ARX KAELI - Highway. released on label Acidsamovar, Russia. Cd packed in wooden box with laser engraving, covered a grey varnish. Time 62 min.
I received a message from you a while back. hotmail thought your message contained a virus so I did not open it. Perhaps hotmail thought this because the subject was very naughty word.
Did you send me a virus?
If so, was it a happy healthy virus or a sad sick virus?
Either way, I do not care for viruses.
You would not send me a virus, would you?
Please be sure to let me know if you make your way up north. Despite my busy schedule I would like to spend some time with you. We could talk and maybe even make some noise.
Astral Dick is a "whodunit" involving a police psychic, Cap'n, and his "paranormal guinea pig," Lieutenant Leo Fleck. Together they are investigating a string of brutal killings centered around the temple of a rogue religious cult and an artsy-fartsy, open-mic, poetry café.
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