Snappy Little Numbers has outdone themselves with this one...a three color screened 1/4" thick plywood cover of a sad bee specimen, heavy and imposing, a real work of art. Then they carry the bee colors into the vinyl pressing of yellow/orange with black and yellow center label. Chuck and Cause Medic Ink sent the interns to Home Depot and had them cutting up 7" size squares long into the night. They went a little nuts with the amount of time and effort put into each single but then these two Denver bands aren't exactly new to getting attention but usually it's just for the tracks inside. Both of these guys opened for one of my favorite bands of all time A Minor Forest recently
Glass Hits side "Action Potential" opens with a heavy gravely guitar quickly joined by another layer of pushy compressed distortion with the vocals doing their best to match with raw throaty screaming the crunch of these two guitars tracked together. Truly aggressive At The Drive In sounding dense layered stuff that must take everything out of all involved and be an insane live show - there's no way you could just stand back and witness this. He's got one of those high register deliveries while the instrumnetation is winding a complex heavy mammoth trail, plowing over anything in their way like a sharper take on Red Medicine. "Dying on the vine" is another guitar driven number where they seem to zoom in on a looped fast tempo riff that winds in around itself and squeeze like that (hot) snake. This time Greg is slightly going easy with his voice, with a Suicide Invoice feel the big jagged stuff that hits the glass. These drums are played in a huge cathedral right against a wall, the bass is in the opposite corner like Steve Albini a shallow reverb peaking out and it's the thing that overwhelms. You're never really ready for it. No matter how many times you put the needle back at the beginning.
Accordion Crimes "New Technique" has a disjointed murky beat, an unsettling loop for bass or low tuned guitar to force this single note down like some kind of audio foie gras, in the way they become a post punk combination of Shellac and Gang of Four and hit those perfect references for me. The line stuttered in perfect time with the spastic chord bursts I...am not...Jackson Pollack with nimble stops and starts, perfect control over huge tough sounds. The vocals drop way out into that room underneath the floorboards like Mr Pollack himself chained up in the basement.
Get this from Snappy Little Numbers direct.
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