this is a perfect soundtrack for the tail-end of a tailspin
Summer, that weird Air of bittersweet vibes and lovely-Heavy
that comes right before the rebirth and return of the clammy
skeleton grip that is the Midwestern Fall.
this's like a suicide-cocktail that your sketchy Junior High
friend whips up in his parents liquor cabinet while his back
is turned to you: an unexpected concoction of both abrasive
elements and potent sweetness, a headfirst mixed drink that
turns out to be even stronger and sharper and stranger and
smarter than you ever could have hoped for. it kicks right
in all the best ways and it leaves the only Aftertaste that
matters: wanting more... a lot more. it's an Instant Replay
listening to the two sides of the tape, digging deep into
the two sets of songs from these two mega-babe bands? it's
like reading the collected letters and correspondence
between two star-crossed, pock-faced, unrequited lovers.
Side A & Side B back-to-back... it sounds like they're both
itching to get drunk & flirty & start making-out with each
other in the back of both of their vans. like if Giving Up
and Saralee were mutual friends of yours who had never met
each other? you would immediately try to hook them up & lay
claim to being the match-maker who synced up the cutest
couple at the dive bar.
this tape makes me wanna go to my mom's attic and dig out my
two decade old Walkman just so i can carry this fucker
everywhere with me. i want this with me on the Western Bus
southbound when the neo-goth kids in front of me are sucking
face and smearing each others different shades of purple
lipstick together into a brand new witchy/black magic color.
i want this with me next Tuesday at midnight on the roof of
the Congress Theater when a longtime friend tells me he's
either gonna blow his fucking brains out or move to Omaha
for a few years. i want this with me when i run into my
ex-girlfriend, the-one-that-got-away, the-love-of-my-life,
the headphones blaring at full volume til my ears cry blood
just a little bit & all i see is her lips moving & we hug
like we want to fuck or just fucking kill each other. i want
it with me as i grapple with head-boiling soul-crushing
questions like, "what if those ancient mystics were right?"
and, "is death an ending or a new point of departure?" and,
"who the hell's got enough bad dope to get me high tonight?"
it's hard to write a love letter for someone you're really
crushing on hard. it's easier when you're not ALL IN yet,
when you only like them a little bit or maybe even not at
all. i guess what i'm saying is, "with a tape this good any
review is just gonna be a shitty love letter at best..."
because i am crushing. i am crushing so fucking hard. i am
crushing on this recording, on both its sides, on both of
the bands, on all of the babes involved.
this tape is 100% certified Heavy Crush material, and i'm in
love with it. if by some story book miracle this tape can
transmogrify itself & Pinocchio it's way into becoming a
real-life living and breathing human being? then i'm gonna
go out looking for it...
and when i find it? i'm gonna keep it. i'm gonna pet it. i'm
gonna feed it. i'm gonna touch its face blindly until i can
see it. i'm gonna do it with my eyes closed & get to know it
too well. and rewind it. and repeat it. and i suggest you do
the same thing, kiddos.