Like a ten year old discovering a barrel of cider at the school disco
A cracking EP, full of snarl & spittle, just how guitar music should be in my books. It’s garage rock of the most messy kind: fuzzy vocals, twanging guitars, schizoid drumming… songs about being dumped and jealousy, all the usual riot. It’s daft and high on adrenaline: on the opener King Corpse the band is dragged through by excitement alone it seems. Like a ten year old discovering a barrel of cider at the school disco, the music is fuelled by a kind of alien force, there is some strange energy not instigated by the band which makes the record sound brilliant (or a disjointed mess if you want to be boring...) Are they transmitting and receiving at the same time we wonder?
It’s also fair to say the “slow bits” are there for the band to snatch a rest – or maybe wonder what to do next - not for any artistic consideration, I hope you understand. This is noticeable on Devil You Know or the shambling beginning of Ya Tu Sabe. The organ wriggles like a live electric current through all of their songs: and yes, you can think of the Seeds in that respect. The last track - Eat the Rich - is a belter, a Bobby Dazzler, an amphetamine fuelled combine harvester that crashes and growls its way through the landscape, obliterating all in its wake. Imagine an old recording of She Cracked played at 78rpom and transmitted through the tannoy at Asdas, and you’re “there”.