This is a right unholy racket, and no mistake. Unholy as in righteous. These are some fine, fine tunes, buried in more attitude than you can fit in 100 lockdowns.
Can only find the link to where you can listen to it because vinyl all gone. Listen anyway.
So then, we’re all agreed: it’s a farce. But exactly what kind of farce is it? McWilkinson will take the first seminar, arguing her hypothesis that the farce should be read like a deconstructive take on a Bakuninian-level revolt disguised as hot marvel. The second seminar will welcome Mordant Furniture, presenting his best selling vision of an illusory farce in a mentalist dogma, preceding the reality which followed it because of inbuilt hypotheses planted by previous venerations. Then Professor Summat Whassup will take the floor, and only return it when we agree to peer review his latest article on the cultural importance of whippersnapping the well-fed, who we should be concerned with because they’re the future of his fan base. And we shall end this enthralling day by dethroning the prevailing revolutionarism and slapping it, all in the capable hands of a brilliant PHD strident, fresh from the aristocratic jam function, known as Manjenium SLobobacker-Roosevelt-Ckumbucket. Tickets are a very reasonable national debt of Guatemala, or the soul of one or more of your children. This includes a buffet lunch – dingos kidneys wrapped in lettuce strips served by small white boys from the council estates that we’re paying minimum way-ge to in order to assuage our guilty consciences that shout at us when we write content-less articles depicting their way of life instead of fucking doing something about it.
In a still loud but otherwise quite contrasting way, this is the just-released second LP from Ecstatic Vision. I have no idea what their first is like, also having no idea how I stumbled across this – when I did, I was only able to hear You Got It or You Don’t, but I was sold on that thing alone. But now I can listen to the whole album, well, damn Daniel, the whole thing is just mighty fine.
I would personally describe this as a kind of garagey-punky-classic rock from the 70s/80s done by psychonautic blues-heads, so maybe The Stooges mixing it up with early-ish Whitesnake after a spliff ; also Endless Boogie who were much more recent. Nudity also come to mind, and a lo-fi White Hills. They mention Hawkwind which is also a good call if you imagine them at their most Motorhead-y!
This is psych-rock for a sunny day with the windows down. If there was any justice I’d hear this coming from every third car that drives past.
Soundbergs 