Unrest - Kustom Karnal Blaxploitation

I feel my entries have become a little too formal as of late, or at least, a little too reserved for me to be comfortable with at an expressionist level. No foolin', either. I started this blog for fun, first and foremost. The desire to connect with other musical nutjobs across the interbutt is definitely in the mix, too, but personal amusement has always been the target.
So then you might ask:
"Where are the strike-through text gimmicks, Steve? And what about those delightfully irrelevant accounts of your daily toils? I'm beginning to think you sold out to contextual clarity and ramblings that actually pertain to album in the spotlight... for this, I weep."
- You, Presumably 2010
My reparations are as follows:

Anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus anus.

Self-absorption aside, let's say we were to cover today the Unrest album that approximately no one in the entire universe likes - Kustom Karnal Blaxploitation.
If you're unfamiliar with the band, here's a brief, 10th-hand history lesson: Unrest started off as a sub-punk, everything-including-the-kitchen-sink, indie rock band formed in Washington, DC circa '82 as sort of a rejection of the newborn hardcore punk scene for no disclosed reason. While largely directed by Mark Robinson (later of Grenadine and Air Miami), the band had two distinct phases - the experimental, constantly genre-swappin', line-up shiftin' early run ('82-'89) and the heavy-duty yet minimalist romantic pop phase initiated by the inclusion of bassist/vocalist Bridget Cross in 1990 that would carry on 'til the break up in '94.

Kustom Karnal Blaxploitation is the band's third full-length LP (probably 7th or 8th release overall), and the last album of the aforementioned first phase. What we've got here is an uneven mix of punky indie rock, fuzzy, sub-metallic riffage that hearkens back to the first two Melvins albums, as well as a couple pop 'n' folk remnants ("Teenage Suicide" and "She Makes Me Shake Like A Soul Machine" are particularly enjoyable), the funky "Foxey Playground", and even a dirge-metal track reminiscent of well... later Melvins material ("Kill Whitey").
Unlike the band's sophomore album (the equally good Malcolm X Park), this 'un is rooted much less starkly in poptones, and is typically regarded as an inessential piece of their discography. I don't really know if I could argue the relevance or impact this release had (it probably didn't have much at all), but it's certainly worth a listen, and I go as far as to say it's my favorite of their first era.
Czech it oot:

http://www.mediafire.com/?omh2n4u4tnd

Personally, I love both phases of the band equally. The first is certainly less accessible than the second, but it has that rare hook of being just out of comprehension that makes me return to it over and over again.

Hey, did I mention it also feature a 12 minute spoken word piece about Sammy Davis losing an eyeball in a car accident? SOLD!