Zen Guerrilla

Invisible ‘Liftee’ Pad/ Gap-tooth Clown (Alternative Tentacles)
by Jon Sarre

You know somethin’s hot when you can’t describe it with yer fave rock’n’roll buzzwords or reference it to a better-known (or more obscure, depending on yer own personal hipness quotient) what-have-you or whatchyawannacallit. I oughta just stop right now and say “Go buy this record,” cos you should hear it for yerself and decide if you like the feeling of yer skin crawlin’ and the hairs a-standin’ up on the back of yer neck cos this is like the heart of darkness itself. Half soundtrack to a malaria outbreak, half I don’t fuckin’ know what… It’s… It’s… Zen Guerrilla !

I can tell you that the feel of this record evokes images of secret meetings at crossroads, like Robert Johnson, ‘cept insane, brilliant and unlucky, ‘stead of just brilliant and unlucky. Crazed eyes burning with mad fury and playing faster and faster with the bodies writhing. Maybe he can escape fate, but, in reality, he just falls deeper into Scratch’s clutches. “Fast car! Slow down!” Guerrilla vocalist Marcus shouts/pleads over and over on one number (my copy of this disc came sans track listings, so I don’t know what the titles are) as feedback flies around him, twisting ’round the words while the rhythm keeps the groove goin’ – basic 12 bar blues, but heavier.

On another song, a raving, scorching blues variation (fucking near dancable, by the way) sets the scene. “In the wee wee hours/ I’ll knock upon your door” go most of the lyrics. It’s like a love song, right? Then there’s this sound in the background, like the breathing rhythms of a sleeping dog, or a power drill on low, or just my imagination that’d make whoever Marcus is planning on calling on wanna lock the doors and then worry that she left the chainsaw outside. Did she? I’m not telling. Find out for yerself.