Part of the crime is how bad some of the material here is – Alice not afraid to suck the tailpipe of trend like a mangy mutt misguidedly after a sugar fix.
A mixture of Goth rock and black metal vocals, occasional doomy plods, interspersed with wind-swept mountain views and staggering ballerina keyboard tinkles.
Plays like blacklight fractured genius. Part Nuggets adulation, a healthy dose of Cramps style un-repentant psychosis, all lathered with oozing sexual whatsis.
Dozer aren’t quite as well-versed in or as traditionally ’70s rooted as Fu Manchu. Maybe they need to write a concept album about the life of a ’76 Camaro.
The production is inspiring and combative, guitars and drums bashing it out for supremacy, while the band figures out how to be rockers straddling old hair.
A five-song, 15-minute EP by a beloved female-fronted band covering Billy Bragg classics. Sound cool? In theory, yeah, but this EP didn’t need to be done.
The liner notes say this was recorded in SF during the rainy month of Februrary ’99, so that might be an explanation for why this is such an uninspired record.