Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Universal Congress Of - s/t

It's pretty rare that an album totally floors me upon first listen, but as far as exceptions go, this is the peat and the moss all in one. Little did I know when I ILLEGALLY DOWNLOADED THIS ALBUM FROM WITH NO INTENTION OF DELIVERING ROYALTIES TO THE LABEL OR ARTIST RESPONSIBLE that it was in fact, Saccharine Trust axeman Joe Baiza at the helm, laying down some fantabulously non-Greg Ginn-esque jazz-fuzz-noise madness. The selling point? Saccharine Trust is in the running for the "Steve Hyewz Top 10 Favorite Bands" list (of which I have not composed, nor have any immediate plans to), and by the end of their reign in '86, they'd never hit a sour note. And of course, I mean the "selling point" for you: my dear readers who take every bit of my internet indoctrined armchair-hipsterisms with blind faithfulness that could only described as "of biblical proportion".
Bullplop aside:
Universal Congress Of oddly enough, don't sound like much of logical progression for the Trust's awesome parting gift, 'We Became Snakes', but perhaps like the mythical 5th or 6th album if they were to continue their progression in the avant-jazz-rock vein sans Brewer's nasally weirdo vocals. In essence, Universal Congress Of was from the future!!! Like 1990 or something. I don't know.
But anyway, this album is an epic if I ever saw (heard) one. Composed of one mammoth sized track and a shorter, calmer exit track, to give you an idea of just how ridiculously epic this album is, the former -"A Certain Way"- looks the limitations of the 12" format right in the eye and mutters "I say fuck no to rules, man" before doing an hardflip 360, chugging a gatorade, and continuing its reign of awesome on the B-side. Aurally, it's pretty difficult to pigeonhole, with a dense, spaced-out, quasi-improvised jazz rock feel and a whole lot of crazy-ass soloing from Baiza and a cold, contemplative (yet groovin') atmosphere advanced strongly by the murky (not muddy) production values.

Prior to this entry, I had no idea Universal Congress Of continued to put out albums after the followup EP, 'This Is Mecolodics', so expect an update concerning the remainder of their catalog's quality at some point. Next on the list: Noothgrush's Erode The Person LP

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Noothgrush - Erode The Person

The "My Most Loathed Song Of The Day" feature!
Today's winner: The Heights - How Do You Talk To An Angel Lyricist Stephanie Tyrell: "Well! Now that I've penned some of the absolute most repugnant and posed lyrics of all time, who wants to croon them in an embarrassingly pussy manner?"
Vocalist Jamie Walters: "Ooh! I do!"
Lyricist Stephanie Tyrell: "Great! How's the music coming along husband Steve and composer Barry Coffing?"
Composer Barry Coffing: "Oh, just fantastic. We've already thrown in a bunch of sax to give it a caucasian r'n'b air the kids are sure to adore, but it still feels a little too consistent..."
Composer Steve Tyrell: "I think I've got it: why don't we strew emotionally irrelevant cock-rock guitar solos throughout THE ENTIRE SONG??"
Lyricist Stephanie Tyrell: "Great idea, honey! Just make sure they sound like stock sound samples that pay no mind to the overall composure."
Wikipedia: In 1993, the song was nominated for a FUCKING EMMY for "Outstanding Individual Achievement in Music and Lyrics".

In other news, Noothgrush were a Californian sludge-doom band who formed in 1994 and according to research from the finest institutes on the East coast, phuckin' rawked. If you've ever been subject to the filthy, druggy, frowning antics of sludge Machiavellis Eyehategod, you've essentially heard a less contemplative version of Noothgrush with far fewer odysseys into uptempo punk rock riffage. Despite treading through a bunch of rubble (ie 'broken ground' hurrrr...), these guys did a damn good job of taking a relatively limited style, honing it into something fresh and powerful, and then releasing it to the blessed in ridiculously limited quantities.
Erode The Person is 5 tracks of king-tier sludge truckin' it like molasses through the fog of the distinctive New Orleans sound (ie ugly, plodding, drug-influenced punk-ish doom metal with raspy screams and southern tinged riffage) in a way I'd rate above even the primordial soup of Buzzov*en and 13. In other words, prime Sabbath
But not Grief. Those dudes are a forkin' goldmine to themselves.
@ Se├▒or N∅: I scooped up the Extreme Music From sets up to Women, and they're all pretty excellent! I'd say the Africa set is probably my favorite thusfar, but I haven't been able to find a download of Russia yet. I think I'll end up buying 'em all by the end of the week, though.

@ Everyone else: [conclude post]