In addition to the synthesized percussion, you get chunky, jaggedly-distorted guitar, clanging, lurching percussion, and even some distortion on the vocals.
Tommy Guerrero has seen his share of the underground. Junk Collector EP is a Sebadoh-meets-trip-hop amalgamation that belies his opening for DOA and Bad Brains.
A beast of many stripes. In this unseasonable and unfriendly climate, a new-ish record company has emerged to bring us the best in multiple genres and forms.
More chaotic than shoegazer, more psychedelic than straight rock, and a hell of a lot more interesting than anything Blur’s put out lately. Or Spiritualized.
“Jeee-z-ussss, my feet are killin’ me!” are the first words ya hear on Michael J. Sheehy’s, ex-lead singer of Homer’s Homeric Hombres, debut solo album.
Acoustic-strummed stray dogs, flower-warped stone and secret societies make sweet poesy of dim New England introspections in Buffalo Tom’s sixth, Smitten.
If pissed and pissed-off limeys with stripper fixations drunk on lousy Helmet records turn yer crank, then Groop Dogdrill is probably yer favorite band.