Old Scratch’s Burnpile
Carlos Sotona [CS; Hemlock]

I haven’t had to unravel a mystery like Old Scratch’s Burnpile in quite a spell. Seems these fellas don’t have much of an internet presence, to say the least. Carlos Sotona could easily be the name of this band rather than the name of the album. I just don’t have enough information at my disposal to make these kinds of calls. Just about the only thing I AM qualified to report at this point is that whatever this tape is/was/will be/could be/should be, I like it. It’s not the sort of material you listen to every day; it’s much to jarring for that. We’re basically talking about a spoken-word extravaganza with Shaggs-style accompaniment, if you can even call it that, chiming on in the background. Southern accents, whimsical topics, and a confused guitar player slipping in and out of consciousness in the background. Sounds like a limited template, but it’s anything but. You might even say Ol’ Scratch, if that is his name, pushes the limits more than most endeavor to these days. For fans of that tape that came to me shoved into a doll’s nether-quarters, Albert’s Basement, Chance Meeting On a Dissecting Table, and poop.

Cerberus

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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