Hot Tub of Blood
Death by Karaoke
Talk about bipolar bands. I recently reviewed another disc by this band (Escape From Planet Love) which sounded like a Superfly soundtrack. Here, Mystechs morph into a cocky Norwegian metal band like Turbo Negro. These guys must have closets full of costumes, ranging from sparkly hooker spandex to a Che Guevara drag of belts and berets. Sartorially and musically, they are a set of hysterically-talented musicians who can tackle any style and make a parody better than Spinal Tap. To hell with the artistic requirement that you do the same thing over and over until your fans are bored to death.
While not a fan of grinding guitars, I do like clever lyrics and nasty social commentary. I was bowled over by “Ground Pounder,” a commentary on the war that observes “the only way out of your shitty hometown is go to someone else’s shitty home town and blow it up.” True words, indeed. Other songs reach lower heights — “Out of Her Misery” advocates that you “kill your grandma” in a sub-basso satanic, torn vocal chord style. The creepiest track on the disk is “Knife in My Hand” which sounds like Meatloaf singing about an abusive relationship that ends in a gruesome murder.
These guys are fascinating — not only for their raw musical talent, but for their raw take on life. It’s not clear if any of this will make it on Clear Channel, but these guys ought to kick butt and take names on college radio.
Death by Karaoke: www.deathbykaraoke.com