Little Miss and The No Name's didn't exactly prepare me for this sludgy, dark metal punk trapped on this disc, neither did the meticulously crafted screened canvas cloth cover, in color no less. I put this single on and turned my back to go check out this packaging and the scuzziest dubbed over cassette metal gurgled out of the speakers. Starting with "CCM", it's scary fucking metal....made all the more so because it sounds like it was recorded just outside the metal razorwire cage these guys have been confined to. That didn't stop some madman from going into this den of filth to hit record and make it out alive with the tape. Really, the sound quality on this thing is something else. Completely unmanufactured anti-dolby made shallower by jamming three tracks on a side at 33...well that's what it said on the inner label anyway. Only now just realized this girl's vocals are a little....well....manly and switched it to 45. Now that makes a lot more sense. But I'll tell you what it's no less frightening, Rebecca's hoarse scream delivery is pretty nuts. That also changes this lyric in "CCM" about overpopulation and chemical castration. Brief bursts of punk lyrics in that brutal hardcore style with virtually no low end... now I'm not complaining, I'm already testing my new neighbors patience with this horror. "Mind" has ONJ and Paulie Unsaturated (that's a perfect descriptor for these guitars) actually coming in with a backup response to Rebecca's vocal dealing with the weird shit going on in her head. Here's the place to get it out, and I'm guessing this live show is as dirty as this sounds. But again if this sounded all crystal clean and polished I'd be suspect along with everyone else. "Dirty Sheep" finds the thin sludge bleeding together and somehow the cymbals are the quietest thing in this mix. This one is about not being punk because you all do the same shit. Tell me about it. The tiny way that this does warm my heart on a cold night in the big city is that there is a band like this out there in Boise Idaho, (that's really where they're from) who if I pulled my shitty car into town they would probably be my only friends. I know young 7inches in the country would have gladly gone to their shows just because it would have probably pissed someone off...and even if you have no idea what your pissed about and are a complete idiot like I was...well it's better than a lot of other ways of life I've seen out there where the people live far apart and vote republican. This is the quinessential 7inches story: put together this punk band in Boise, play like hell, make no money, it's all for fun, your job sucks, and press a record like this.
The B-side keeps up this speed with "Perfection" about how useless that even is, this is pure pissed off noise...it really doesn't get more pure of a sentiment than this. You make something this much on the fringes of commercial ROCK, you really don't care what anyone thinks...it's just sad when that cleaned up punk garbage actually turns into a Vans tour or something. I know...all music is great, those guys worked hard too, and I want to believe it started as authentic as this, but where do you draw the line? As soon as people start making money there's a downward spiral? The stakes are higher I guess.
This would be a welcome soundtrack for feeling lonely and pissed in the garage with basically no prospects of getting out of the shithole where your parents are focing you to live.
Get this from Rigid Records. I recommend the super deluxe canvas version housed in a black envelope with lyric insert, stickers and pieces of their soul. You're going to have to go over to their myspace if you want to hear this insanity.
They must be doing something right if Rigid Records site was hacked?
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