...theres a real goodly amount o' tape hiss goin down here that its like a real groovey time list'nin to some cool illicit biskit put out back in th'day by cats like th'TMOQ/RUBBA DUBBA bootleg crews...taped at a gig in 87 just before they became 'big' with college geeks it starts off like lou reed jammin with early television...crunchy electric shafts o'piercin noise come crashin out like some spazzed demented avant metal from th'mid seventies cleveland underground clubs...heavy underwater torpedos o' skrunk slashin away lettin loose floods o'squeel all over that NO-Wave pulse...about a third o' th'way in theres a bubblin o' 79 new-wavery filtered thru th'sonic multi-quadrangler to become somethang akin to th'funhouse stooges blasted thru a gauze o' methad(r)one...some dodgy stereo blackouts give it all another dimension possibly that o' syd barrett on a spiked mandrax fit lurchin into th'darkness...by trk seven th'sonix-trip-party(STP)is well under way with kim comin on strong like lydia lunch on a heavy crack pipe...followin this thy lock into a mad kinda voodoo syncopation hypnotic blur'n staight into more iggy/dolls twisted gutter gunk...th'later part o' th'voyage must start with trk11(death valley 69)which is a total mind-wreck o' healter skelter creepy crawlin 'n after a short rockin blast from kim its back in th'dunes buggys to th'manson desert for some primal attackin 'on th'beach' style youngsian drone noise...th'encorin last numbers're a tribute to th'ramones with four o' da bruddas toon raced out like th'punk poundin on th'dangerhouse label...th'whole shebang from th'murky hiss/basement groove to th'avant wired pummelin is a great reminder o' th'first era o' th'youth, th'amphetamine shrieks o' power flame throwers before th'suits tried to move in to tell them what to do'n how to do it, basically tryin to ruin th'groovey...