This one would be a breeze if you were sitting here with me. I'd put the CD
on and press 'play.' About ten seconds into track one (which, to provide a
little foreshadowing, is called "Recyclable Fluids In Human Form"), you'd
say something like, "Is it like this all the way through?"
"Yup," I'd say.
"Hmm," you'd say. And then we'd turn it off and play Madden 2004.
"Plague Soundscapes" is an an assaultive, abrasive, blood-curdling mess. A
sort of extreme-music grab-bag, the 23-track, 21-minute album borrows from
many banks. From death-metal it takes blastbeats and shrieking vocals, from
industrialized thrash it makes off with all kinds of weird background
sounds, and from fringe characters like John Zorn and the Boredoms it takes
its schizo changes and (very) occasional funky breakdowns.
Whatever, it's bloody awful. There are no cool riffs to get into, just
brain-damaged King Crimson guitar lines trodden under by overdriven
fuzz-bass and kick-drum explosions straight out of the Napalm Death
songbook. It's pointless to listen for musical ideas, because the
projectile stream *is* the idea. Produced by Alex Newport, "Plague
Soundscapes" stirs the whole stew together and then Jackson Pollocks it into
your ears. (In a brief aside, I would like to mention that Alex Newport's
band, Fudge Tunnel, do the greatest version of Cream's "Sunshine Of Your
Love" ever to hit magnetic recording tape.)
The Locust just pummel you, and not in a transcendant, Neurosis-y way,
either. It's like getting beaten down by a scratchy, tick-infested
scarecrow.
That said, the lyrics and song titles are friggin' awesome. I'll just get
out of the way and let you check some of these out: "Who Wants A Dose Of
The Clap?" "Captain Gaydar It's Time To Wind Your Clock Again." "Solar
Panel Asses." "Anything Jesus Does I Can Do Better." (I mean, who among us
doesn't wish we'd gotten to *that* one first?)
And then there's my personal favorite, "Pulling The Christmas Pig By The
Wrong Pair Of Ears." I could write a thesis on this one sentence. Are they
going to eat the Christmas Pig? Where are they pulling it? And, uh, what
other pair of ears would they pull it by?
The lyrics are no help. Or are they? You decide:
Q: If the aunt had balls she would be?
A: Uh, the uncle.
Q: And in more trouble than?
A: A pregnant nun.
So get a hole to hide in
Or some hide to cover the hole
Pig's Christmas parcel arrived
Basically full of crap
And other lil' treats.
Awe (sic), that little pig.
Now imagine these freaks screaming these lines like banshees and you're
getting the idea.
I'll probably never listen to this album again, but these guys get props and
an extra rating point for accurately executing their vision. This is
obviously the album they wanted to make, and it can't be said that they
didn't work hard on it. And as we've seen, there's plenty of fun to be had
with this record without even playing a note of it. That "Jesus" title gets
a bonus point all by itself.
Caveat emptor, my friends. |