Imagine the hopelessness of Kids melding with the amusing anecdotes of The Breakfast Club, though perhaps Clerks might offer a less glitzy alternative.
A favorable pastime is gathering buddies, videos, and a case of Snapple (or favorite beverage). You can laugh like maniacs, and stop the film for discussion.
Bobby Gillespie spent much of the past three years not only reassessing, but reconstructing and redefining what he, his band, and rock ‘n’ roll are all about.
They’re heavy that blends the sounds of throat-tearing vocals, maniacally riffing guitars, and technicolor dreamcloak keyboards into one “symphonic mass.”
If Nick Cave found his happy place, went to Vegas, won some cash, listened to a little lounge, and stopped for a quick lobotomy, it might sound like this.
A standard-setting self-destructive punk album, bringing out the raw, throat-shredding vocals of Stiv Bator and the fuck-overdubs guitarwork and skin-bashing.
Chugga-chugga-chugga. Roaring lyrics about harsh reality and all that. Formerly Raped Ape, Florida’s Paingod have released their debut on Century Media.