Today's Sounds This Minute
Cymbals hit with ball peen hammers mesh with a bullet-riddled saxophone and a trio of dented fuzz guitars to create an unsettling wave of sound that can send chimps into murderous rages. Lead singer Lamont Means brings some texture to the mix, when he isn't trying to swallow the mike or slamming it against a pile of gravel while yelling about the trilateral commotion in his brain. The three-minute echo chamber screamfest that closes the song could've been cut to a minute forty-five without any loss of resonance.
"Jelly Ur Stain (Make It Quizzical)" by Treb Gee Featuring Mrs. Random.
Recurring loops of sneezes and yodels provide the bass line for an accelerated rhyme duet that reaches a vocal apex of braggadocio and desperate pleading before crashing into charges and countercharges of petty theft and excessive fondling. Church bells add some depth, but are overwhelmed by Treb Gee's porno grunts and Mrs. Random's ostrich calls, which culminate in a flood of profanity and promises of retribution before the duo settle into a smooth "baby baby" groove.
"Watch Out, Mr. Ahmadinejad" by Hummer Perkins.
Patriotic country singer Perkins follows up his 2003 hit, "Get A Runnin', Saddam," with this "message" to the current president of Iran. Essentially, this is the same song, with a few changes in names and nations. Still, Perkins really sells it, and his fans will delight to lyrics like, "Shia, Sunni/Don't know the difference, so sue me/You're goin' down real soon/Gonna turn Tehran into the moon" and "American bombs will find you/Ahmadinejerk, and fry you/And the other towelheads, too/Roasted Iranian beef stew/Goes fine with cold American brew." Reportedly, Hummer Collins is back in the studio working on his next song, "Chavez, Hugo Straight To Hell."
"Clarion Kitchen Mice" by Towers Of Bile.
A novelty song of sorts, in which mutant rodents commandeer a rural kitchen using LSD-laced Ding Dongs and subliminal suggestion. The lead guitar at times sounds lost and off tempo, as though Ric Carve is walking into an atonal dimension. But lead singer Jass Lorde holds it all together with her signature siren sound, and thanks to her, the mice become sympathetic characters, until their kitchen scheme falls apart due to vehement tactical differences, which gives the humans enough of an opening to capture and subject them to hours of pro-Scientology rants and occasional electric shocks.
"Route 14 Ain't Sizzlin' No More" by Charley Rufus III.
The folk-rock wunderkind returns with another tribute to two-lane highways of the southwest, as a steel guitar played with welder's gloves guides the melody along with sudden bass bursts, an acoustic guitar solo that sporadically jumps from flamenco to raw honky tonk, incredibly slow drumming that sounds as if the kit is being shoved through pus-soaked gauze, an electric fiddle/harmonica fusion which conjures mental images of drunken cowpokes gang banging a dying mule, topped with Rufus' craggy baritone that, as always, gives off a I've-been-dragged-through-the-gutter-so-many-times-that-I'm-starting-to-feel-as-if-sanity-is-a-drug-induced-illusion-that-must-be-shattered-by-a-spree-of-mindless-violence-that-would-make-Richard-Ramirez-retch-in-horror feel.
"Recall That Anomaly, Candice?" by The Floating Bee Delusion.
Cut-rate, warmed-over psychedelic retro-noise from this Scottsdale quartet that seems so obsessed with late-60s acid music, they never really learned to play their instruments or develop any semblance of lyrical cohesion. The result is a mish-mash of stolen sound effects from old science fiction movies, an out of control metronome, maniacal laughter, what sounds like a rake being shoved into an electric fan, doors slamming amid a child's screams, and the line "Thrust thy brick henceforth to the 'morrow" electronically distorted and repeated at various sound levels. While the name "Candice" is in the title, the actual song makes no mention of her, referring only to a "lady grasshopper" as glass breaks and a goose hisses over a poorly-played piano.
"Loving You To Death (This Time I Mean It)" by Luci Kyle.
A soft pop ballad about emotional instability and disturbed romantic obsession by one of the true masters of the form. When Kyle whispers "If I can't have you, then I'll have you stuffed in my attic," she is very believable -- so believable, in fact, that several concertgoers have taken out restraining orders against Kyle after seeing her perform live. Kyle's no less intense here, and when she sobs about the cruelty of unrequited love, then giggles about how she'll slowly "teach you the meaning of tough love" with the shades drawn, the phone disconnected, and electrical tape across her would-be lover's mouth, you feel like locking yourself in a closet for several hours until Kyle's melodic threats fade in your mind.