Fucked Up Friends


What do I know about Black Moth Super Rainbow? Not a damn thing. But you can guess after listening to a BMSR member’s solo work Fucked Up Friends, I plan on getting to know them. Tobacco of Black Moth Super Rainbow has released a fat-tastic, fuzzy, mind-annihilating album that stays in the brain and replicates into an infestation.

There’s something dark about Fucked Up Friends, something sinister and ominous. It reminds me of a darkened underground nightclub where the crowd, with slackened eyelids and pulses deep and sluggish, smoke cigarettes slow. Yeah, it’s hot. And hip in the dirty sense. Fucked Up Friends makes you feel dirty — in the good way.

I could have done without all 16 tracks, though. A rounded-out, solid, pelvis-obliterating stack of 11 would have done just as nicely. The guest appearance by Aesop Rock cluttered up “Dirt” where an instrumental would have been just effing perfect.

I can’t express through words on a screen how much I am urging you to find this album and ingest it.

Who he reminds you of: RJD2, Yip-Yip, Beck without vocals.


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