Thursday, February 3, 2011

Review :: Armchair Telepathy :: Dead Meat

Dead Meat
"The King" EP

This pigfuck, post-grunge band followed me all the way home from work today. I thought I could lose it by cutting through the dirt path between Calvert and the dog park, but I noticed it in my periphery when I turned back down Adams Mill toward 18th. My next move was straight out of a spy flick: I counted out bus fare in my pocket with my spare hand, crossed to the nearest 94/96 stop, and waited for the first after-work crowd to disembark. When none of this worked, I decided to drop the pretenses, turned to face my stalker, and tried to come to peaceful terms. Right about then I took a right cross from Helmet circa 1992. I swung back with a few remembered niceties about Joy Division's Closer, but I overshot and fell short in the same move.

These fuzz-laden licks wiped me clean out. Jesus ascended Fuck Mountain for me: I was transported directly back to my seventeenth year, counting push ups in my parents' garage as if the FBI recruiter was waiting out in the driveway for my commitment letter (I don't work for the FBI. I'm a shit-stirring fuck-up). I think I was expecting to be more prescient, more scene-sensitive, and instead I discovered that I was as much a victim of my musical upbringing as any reviewer out there, trapped between nostalgia and wishful thinking.

Came across these guys while listening to Vancouver's Pop Drones, Episode 78, originally known to me as the blog "Expressway to My Skull" even though I can't remember when it changed over exactly.

Bonus/Bones: If you buy "The King," you also get a download card for the Early Recordings full length. So slam that jello shot, son; you're a winner just like your daddy was.

Dead Meat :: The King

1 comment:

  1. I listened, and now there following me.

    xo. Rhymes with rudimentary.