What a lovely little breath of fresh air. Quirky as hell. Never really sets the house on fire. Sure the fuck ain’t no kinda punk, or thrash, or gnash, or whatever the hell they’re calling it this week. About half Zappa calypso, half Sixties prepsychedelia, half Martian reggae, half robot bluegrass, half surf music, half music school exercises for unruly students, and a couple of other halves I can’t think of right this minute. No vocals. Lotta weird time signature stuff. And yet, it just ROLLS! Along and down a lonesome stretch of highway with geologic formations from another planet looming in the distance. My kinda place.
Sub Pop Records, 1932 First Ave., Suite 1103, Seattle, WA 98101; http://www.subpop.com