Burnt Envelope
Alien Nation: Collected Singles Thus Far [LP; Feeding Tube]

Lou Reed, still? Yep, still. It’s lingering in all of us like a lifelong flu, but with Burnt Envelope’s Anthony Pasquarosa it’s more of an unhealthy, 12-step deal that’s not gonna end pretty for anyone. Alien Nation: Collected Singles Thus Far makes Puffy Areolas sound late-era Ramones, and those Puffy mothers are the hardest cats AROUND (At SXSW a few years ago they played so loud I literally heard nothing, and the lead singer unsheathed his guitar and gave it to my wife, whom doesn’t play guitar, to bash on for a song). But forget that; this is harder and stronger, like shooting dope after fuckin’ around with chasin’ the dragon or something (not that I would know, but look at the news, H is back and it’s a problem for a lot of y’all; get help, please), so powerfully avant yet sorta catchy too, sticky and maybe just a little sweet if you’ve got the taste for it. I cottoned to the general gist of Burnt Envelope instantly. Meld 39 Clocks (ooh I doooo like a nice 39 Clocks ref.) with Ed Schrader’s Music Beat and you’re close-but-no-cigahhh, yet that’s the best I can do for you. And here’s the thing: Alien Nation: Collected Singles Thus Far started out life as a tape. The vinyl format seems a better fit though, what with all the cracklin’ and such, so props to Feeding Tube’s insatiable ear for aural asphyxiation once again. I was disappointed to miss out on reviewing the label’s recent, sick-as-hell No Sod (nee Ted Lee) and Sunburnt Hand Of The Man LPs due to timeliness concerns, so hopefully this and my upcoming perusal of that Moonsicles record will suffice. Don’t shut me out, FT. Peace.

Links: Feeding Tube


Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d’art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.

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