Friday

monks

...whooah dig it, and dig it long and hard as this outta-site monster slab has got to be one of the alltime future/primitive thudding beat rackets ever laid on a cat and it burst upon the scene in that pivitol '66 year...the sound here is behind/out of/all over time in style yet way in front and forward looking with its attack squadron ferocity...the way their weapons mesh with retardo/militaristic strumming banjo that just keeps on and on and on, the frenzy of squeaky otherworld keyboards that does place it in the garage slightly but this aint no kids rocking out the best they can, these are pilots of the future come to save rock'n'roll from becoming stranded as art which was entirely possible given the year...guitar mangling that not too many cats have ever come close to, this pure abandoned freeform yet tight noise, once heard never forgotten...oversized tambourines that are relentlessly thumped when needed plus the drums pounding and pounding from start to finish...as a whizzo bonus to all this gaggle they were amerikkkan g.i's doing time in the land of the autobahn keeping everyone free from communist invasion and any cats getting to see any footage dig how their audience hardly ever put a peeper on them and when they do its quickly sneaked glances as if to stare at these mighty gods could invite vibrations too heavy for normal humans...must be handled with care and respect and it will repay like not too many other slabs could ever think of matching...one of those rarefied biscuits thats number one in a field of one, and thats rare, something to treasure in these times of comformity and delusion...
...all monked up...

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