Iron Lung Records
Look, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been trolling the internet for “free” music lately. I do this now and then. I stumble across a blog that rapidshares albums of bands and I start reading what they have to say and then eventually I down load one or five albums, records or whatever. I don’t practice that behavior on this blog for a few reasons. 1. I don’t know how to zip folders together. 2. I don’t want to sign up for another account of anything on the internet. 3. I think that stealing music is ultimately wrong. Even though I don’t practice this last one as well as I should and am a total hypocrite douche bag for even talking about it, I can’t, in good faith allow others to bogart work from my shitty blog. If you want to steal music on the internet, well I’m not gonna save you the hassle of using google. I find this shit by mistake, and you can probably do it a lot easier then I can.
I came across Slices on one such blog. I don’t even remember which. In fact, I found this band originally through Last.FM as a band I might be into and someone posted a link to a blog and I went and read about the band and downloaded the album cuz it sounded kind of cool. It’s fucking AMAZING. I know what you are saying, “Dude, you say every album you review is fucking AMAZING. If you think everything is AMAZING how am I to know what is truly amazing and what is just crap? Dumb Ass.” I know, I agree, and seriously, this time, I mean it.
The sonic similarities to fellow Pennsylvanian sludge fuck band Pissed Jeans can not be understated. Dreary, sludgy, loud as fuck piss rock seems to be gaining momentum in the wake of Pissed Jeans and a lot of the bands make Pissed Jeans albums sound like Micheal Jackson Records. Drunkdriver, Twin Stumps (both on Fan Death, which is a twisted fucking label) and now Slices all delve into the depths of desperation and near unlistanability (Twin Stumps have a sanctioned download of their new album at this blog and looking at the sound waves, I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be mastered to full peak, or if there just fucking with their fans, but seriously, you have to turn the speakers way down, just to comprehend what’s going on, shit is serious). Slices, for their part are far more manic on the record then their sonic forefathers in Pissed Jeans, at least out of the gate. King of Jeans becomes more aware after several listens, and seems to catch up in intensity to some of the bands that have followed in their example, but Cruising just comes at you full tilt, with no warning.
Cruising is a punishing album where everything is in full on overdrive And all the yelling and screaming barely lets up enough for you to catch yr breath. Even the interlude “Mike’s Insane Problems” is a frantic scale jam on the piano. But it’s nervous and twitchy and doesn’t settle you down so much as set you up to get kicked in the balls when “Guide to Incest” kicks in. This is neurotic rock music, taking all the great pieces of outsider rock and making it intense and lively again. And with nine songs in twenty minutes, Slices does it right. They don’t drag you through the ringer so much as drop you into a wood chipper and laugh as yr guts are poured out all over the place. Get fucked up.