Glad I snuck this one in at the last minute, as it didn’t deserve to die with 2012. Moth Cock… nice. I thought Bremmy might be a euphemism for Bremerton, Wash., but I don’t want to be presumptuous. Still, I presume that. What a tape though, folks. All buzzin’ flies and digital capillaries oozing blood-red through the prism of 1990s noise, with an extra helping of lazer. The word ‘busy’ comes to mind, and this time it might even be too much. While it’s a lot of fun ‘getting there,’ once the reality of 15 or so instruments/effects/etc. hits you it’s disorienting and, after admittedly more than a few minutes, off-putting. I don’t know, maybe the kids have finally caught up with me. I feel dehydrated and irritated, like Kevin Bacon in Stir of Echoes. There’s no sign of let-up, either. Plenty of fight in these dudes, and I salute them for it. Give me hell, purveyors of hand-crafted trips.
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