No more garage rock tapes, I said to myself. (I talk to myself a bunch. Don’t you?) Since I invented this feature, I’ve been picking through Wuxtry’s cassette cabinet, in hopes of finding something new and exciting to write about. I gambled on two tapes that lacked descriptions – only to find mostly non-descript, “authentic” […]
The nastiness, the blackness and bleakness, is a lot of the attraction.
If punk was a roar of rage, industrial music was a scream of terror.
There’s a new Foetus album out, Hide. It’s nasty. It’s layered, with claustrophobia and a refusal to be brought down by the rotting last days of the previous American president. It’s orchestrated, all over the place. By orchestrated, I mean crushing great string sections to match the pummeling great industrial beats. It’s symphonic. Fuck yeah. […]
I don’t like it when they go loud. I liked King Of Convenience. I liked Simon And Garfunkel, the darker numbers, and not overlooking the fact Art Garfunkel is just about the most annoying anodyne twat this side of Lionel Richie. I like to hear the strum of the acoustic, and tentative harmonies. I like nervousness especially […]