Friday

butthole surfers

...as had many texas sunbaked acidheads before them, the surfers made the trek from a mainly oppressive atmosphere of their home state to the more 'welcoming' environment of old frisco...as the 80s began these cats were to be found living in enormous abandoned beer vats and starting to create some mind warping swill that would see them gain worldwide underground attention...this is their first full length wax, after a couple of goes round with extended play format for alternative tentacles label recorded at the end of 83 but not released for another year because of those age old record co. mess ups...full of missives from a deseased mind injected with just the right amount of studio trickery...one thing that can definitely be said about these layabouts is that they know exactly the way mind glooping technology should be used before the whole shebang becomes a joke that gets tired before it starts (in later years major record co. shenanigans would make them sometimes conform to trendmaker hooks but even then there's some instances of white light moments, the amount of hollywood flicks they been featured in gives the truth of the saying; 'yesterday ridicule/today really cool')...oozing its way into every cranial passage and exploding into something akin to a swamp on fire (if such occurances is possible)...heads who dig the chronology of psychedelic noise and how it all hooks up in the tattered weave that is the great rock'n roll tapestry will dig the fact this bubbles out of basement-punk like the dead 15 years before and they know how to ride a rudimentary riff like hawkwind (this is most evident on track 10)...way more out there in wig lifting flipcity terms than the contemporanious 'paisley underground' shuck that was getting paid more than its due attention...set the standards against which noise rock and the spinoff genres were to be judged for over a decade...

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