Alright, so the supremely ill artwork for Rob Michalchuk’s Mars is what initially drew me in. But the demon-breath, effected alto-bellows are what parked my tuchas down and opened my ears like flowers in spring. And after a few listens, it ALL became clear. Michalchuk’s sax squelches and skittish jars are pretty much the direct equivalent to Schwarzenegger’s head nearly exploding in Total Recall. “That’s what was drawing me in!” Though, the album’s looped madness actually makes the near rupture of old Arnie’s eyeballs and his denied lungs’ search for oxygen seem tame at times. Both deal with Mars, though. Sure, I’m stretching… ‘least I’m trying.
Copies of the limited tape are still available, as is the unending stream below.
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