Christ, I didn’t know people got this stoned. Glaciers roll by this stuff as if it’s standing there trying to hitch a ride. With all of the doom metal clogging the pores lately, I guess someone figured they could have the last word. Heavy, thick slabs of mega low-end plodding and droning with distant voices bemoaning the fact that their legs are too leaden to move another inch forward. Purposefully simple, though I’m not sure what kind of point, outside of the aforementioned one-upmanship, this serves. Now, where’s my copy of Streetcleaner?
Hydra Head Records, PO Box 990248, Boston, MA 02199; http://www.hydrahead.com