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This
is another one of those strange records that have
consumed me for the past few weeks. It is extremely
powerful, extremely messy and yet, extremely groovy.
This album rocks in all the ways that true music should.
It’s loud and obnoxious, its sounds are mostly abrasive
and abstract and chaotic, the guitar sound spills
everywhere and yet, it is all nicely still contained
within songs that with zero hesitation move abruptly
from side to side, shifting speeds and jumping, hopping
and ducking for cover, getting reduced to mere drum
rolls and relying in a dying guitar sound.
The vocals
reveal the band as more of a noise beast than a metallic
demigod. They belong to that school of punked up
angularity, tone deaf coolness, arrhythmic delivery and
sheer careless vocalization. Shit, even the cover is
gorgeous. The name of the band is Food. Yeah, what a
name! Catchy!
I don’t know
anything about the band and even a peek into their MySpace won’t
reveal much besides a few images. Either the band members are
parted between Montana, Virginia and Indiana or they are a bunch
of hobos. But their five song recording
is nearly flawless. Their appeal amongst metalheads may be
subjected to an open mind and a relationship to sludge.
Image is nothing here. Only music matters and as such Food
delivers the good with incredible aplomb.
If the first
three tunes establish the basis for the Food sound, it is not
until the almost ten minutes of “Love” that Food hooks us with
no other bait than a scream at a distance, the loose melody of a
drummer and full on distortion. It’s a masterful track with a
ghost spirit. There isn’t much of a song here, except vivid
music in motion, breathing sounds pullulating forever and ever
the underground. That’s what is all about. Closer “Oxbow” is even
better, where the band sustains the melody in the most organic
of fashions; it’s rocking jam totally free of bullshit and
color. Nothing but stripped down rock music. This rocks and is
very fucking exciting.
MySpace
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