Blubbering Trash Monsters

[Terrible Lizard]

Here it is, coming down the railroad tracks with a hammer and list of more important **** I could be doing right now. My journal in other words. . .
I'll post as often as I can reviewing the vast amounts of media I leech onto for artistic inspiration, and hopefully you'll be dazzled by my insight and dry wit. . . probably not, but let's get the ****e-coaster rolling!

[Terrible Lizard]

Title: The Trasfiguration of Blind Joe Death
Artist: John Fahey
Year: 1965


Somedays are too ****ing humid, the air seems to stick like plastic wrap and the wind is continually whispering lukewarm breezes my way. On days such as these I find John Fahey to be the best cold pad for my swelling welt of annoyance, or for any other time the little things in life tempt me to participate in mass murder.
There is something very vital to this album, besides the fact that it's one of the greatest works of back roads strummin' to come in the wake of the the last century. The album is mostly made up of sentimental and almost preaching acoustic works which almost seem to represent a certain sensation, or in my case prick of feeling that comes with the twists one pretentious ******* like myself regularly experiences day-to-day.
But don't misunderstand me, despite the shift that seems to occur in this man's modest picking the album conveys specific images, not unlike the roaming bearded weirdos we usually see prowling the streets with cracked guitars on their backs.
John Fahey's guitar style is not easy to place, it's far from traditional but it retains that scratch that old blues thrived upon, but at the same time breaches out with technical soundscapes which remind me of ragged coyotes nipping at the corpses of hapless anteaters for some odd reason. . .
But we later gave that the name of experimental, well not me but someone did.







I'm too lazy to say or show anything else, but I promise my next entries to more attributed to a BAMF.

But for now, I'll wrap up by giving this album.




Out of a. . .

[Terrible Lizard]

I've finally gotten off my lazy ass and decided to review something else for your reading pleasure, or morbid fascination.



Title: Derbe Respect, Alder
Artist: Faust and Dälek
Year: 2004


The moment you hear about this album, you know it's going to be awesome. And you're even more willing to believe that if you're familiar with both the layered second-speak of Dalek, or the dark pandemonium recesses of Faust.
Such excitement has come with other Krautrock, avant-leaning collaborations in the music-world. Some are fantastic, while others fail to meet expectations. Like Disconnected, **** the coughing gag it's been used too much.

Anywhoo the first track on Derbe Respect is conveniently named "Imagine What We Started" which shifts between hollowing desert roars to an almost screeching industrial leaping. Classic sounds with a gruesome twist settle in and don't depart for the rest of the album. Which to say is not a bad thing, coupled with sparse interludes of rapping that fade as quickly as they come.
As expected, the album is more about the images conveyed, and while listening to this, the words to some twisted horror story began to drip from the more morbid corners of my imagination.

I keep seeing myself wander through some barren downtown crowded with smokestacks and rusted streetsigns, everything seems to be crumbling and toxins of every sort dance around me like some twisted Bald Mountain tribal procession. However this is not related to the actual subject that the work presents. I'm sure any of the lyrics for the tracks will give a better inkling.

The collage speaks better without directed interpretation. If it were only longer and a little more surprising as well as buzzing and intricate.




I give this a

out of

[Engine]

You set your own bar way too high.
After those two you can only reference the best shit ever from now on.

[jackhammer]

Faust AND Dalek. Holy shit! I gotta get me some of that sometime.