I had to pick one last 2013 tape to review out of a pile of Albert’s Basement goodies and came up with this convincingly caffeinated, ‘caw’ing cassette of cacophany and mind-crags. The Charles Ives Singers (please let that be a nod to Burl Ives, the singing-snowman guy) blow like Smegma, layer like Avarus, and can even synth-up a bit in a fashion I’m not used to hearing. It’s all fun and/or games until the two sets of keys open disparate doors and wander off on their own, never to be retrieved. Then the horns come in again and we’re in skronk territory, which, when applied directly to a wound… will cause the wound to bleed more. That’s GOOd. That’s SIck but GOOd. Now, break out that auctioneer’s cap and start breakin’ out some numbers; that’s it, boy. From here you already know if you’re gonna head this way or not so I’ll spare you the shenanigans. Kiwi-for-life, bitches.
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