Saturday, January 29, 2011

Tractor Sex Fatality - Bloodeagle
Big Neck

Scarcely a more succint, apposite & enticingly not-quite-self-explanatory title from the admirably bedecked in the moniker department bunch (at this precise moment only Jesus Of Spazzareth come close but memory recalls they ail musically). Apparently Seattle's most active defunct band (this was recorded in 2006) & I surmise sagely it may be that they're extensively treatment bound after each merciless release at the sheer coruscation they unleash. Starting off in coyly delectable noir mode like Morphine jacking up over a Kerouac haiku they pretty rapidly (17 seconds & counting?) transcend rabid pits of super-scuzz & sluiced bonkers skronkadelia, streaking past & decimating whole palpitating closets of early Blues Explosion & Mudhoney. Hell, it's like FUNHOUSE but X(tremely-well)rated not over-rated, for all it's willfull freeformation it's a meticulous maelstrom of fuck-scuppered funk & flat-out fucked-up frantic grebo-be-bop. You can recognise the semblance of structure rather than them rummaging over-earnestly up the quivering rectal blag-hole of avant-prog lalalaa, tis just that they make it squat jovially over it's own intemperately distending entrails. It stings it ain't pretty & it may scar your skin but it's the best piece of sensory decimation, or anything, heard for many a barstad's bathtime. As they say 'Relax & learn to enjy the ride'.
Stu Gibson

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