Monday

...a total apt title to this euroboot which seems to be a pile up o' rehearsals from '88 which makes it about th' time 'dead' joined up to do th'throat roarin'...this is mainly instros buried under storms o' tape hiss givin' this th'required necro sound these metal heads were lookin' for...deep in th'basement these cats're found workin' on a thunderous coupla riffs which became their signature tunes, feedbackin'n pummellin' them into th' ground relentlessly lookin' for th'true explosion o' rockin' swill...turnin' th'dank air into a fetid soup they wade through endless slop hammerin' th' ultimate riff into th' shape that will satisfy th' endless night they inhabit...layabouts might wanna dig trk5 which is a drum solo but th'first half has just th' right amount o' sonic screach that it sounds like prime era ESP-Disk free jazz...indeed th'whole o' th'mayhem original aesthetic was similar to NYC jazzbos in th'alientatin' th' audience enough to build a more sympathetic one which would hopefully view 'n understand life 'n art differently from th'earlier onlookers, certainly th' 60s jazzers got enough square hatred(downbeat mag for one) thrown their way to know they were on th' right track cos now 4decades down th' road they're revered like no other jazzbos in th' last half century...roundabout half way through th' thing seems to take on a psychedelic trance vibe with th' tape hiss gettin' louder for awhile as if actin' as a buffer to keep th' listener from driftin' to far into th' second mind which by now will have woken in most cats who get that far into th' oooze...even th' fact that this is over a mindbendin' hour long it would be too short at twice th' length...somewhere in time 'n dimension this is th' soundtrk to life, which must open up other, more far reachin' vistas o' (un)reality...

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