Any band with song titles
like "Ants In My Hands" and "Electronic
Sorcerer" are going to sound at least a little bit
like Black Sabbath. It goes without saying, really. This
lot also sound a heck of a lot like a really, really nasty,
and really, really excellent, garage-punk-rock car crash.
Modey Lemon like it dirty. Their second album (and first
as a three-piece, with the addition of bassist Jason Kirker)
is one of shrieks and howls, of grimy time-warping synthesisers
and ominous, imposing bass-quakes. They have a drummer
who actually does sound like he has ants in his hands.
And they have managed to record an album of such ferocious
intensity that by rights it should be carrying free mental
health insurance with it.
This won't just go over the heads of any hapless
indie kids who think the Strokes embody the true nature
of rock and roll, it will kick them in the guts, steal
their wallets and then quite possibly get the Electronic
Sorcerer round to turn them into warty weasels.
An essentially primitive three-piece from Pittsburg (they
use a synthesiser as an instrument in the same way a caveman
would use a laser gun as a club), Modey Lemon have clearly
no interest in sonic perfection. They've gone for
the kind of production job that, while most metal bands
hanker after boy-band style sonic clarity, will go some
way towards convincing you that you've broken your
ears. It's so loud that the record pretty much permanently
crackles with distortion.
Want some reference points? Well, imagine...
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