Wednesday, November 1, 2006


I got this based on this review from dusted magazine and the description from the label: columbia discount records. This seven inch is loud, and they channel doo rag, pavement, space needle, even early beck. There's guitars underwater, that change midstrum to distorted tiny speakers. Vocals turned up to 11. It's fun, they don't give a damn, they're just rocking it out, taking low-fi to a new low. They don't just record these tracks on crappy equipment, they've recorded it and rerecorded it, then layered, and cut them together. They are just making the places and equipment another instrument, another character in the track. I will be looking to see what they do next.

When judging Psychedelic Horseshit on name alone, the response is equally obnoxious and endearing, repulsive and magnetic. But the moniker, created in a last-minute attempt to place guitarist Matt Whitehurst's then-fictional band into the line-up of a Delaware County hippie fest in September 2005, is a more than apt description of what they do.

Armed with acoustic guitars that sound like trash cans, keyboards that sound like acoustic guitars, and drums that sound like cardboard boxes, Psychedelic Horseshit have quickly made a name for themselves in the current Columbus, OH lo-fi/punk rock revival. Equal parts Dylan and the Fall, Who Let the Dogs Out is the best example to date of Horseshit's brand of disaffected "practice rock".

"Who Let the Dogs Out" comes encased in stapled paper emblazoned with a rough collage, and it lasts about as long as it takes to smoke a cigarette. Wherever the line delineating the underground falls, this disc falls well below it, sounding like it was recorded by a broken ghetto blaster buried deep in a neighbor's closet. Disposable, yet undeniably essential.

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