Space Program
When the shoe drops on the first bars of the USA is the Monster’s new full length, it becomes clear some changes have occured since the last record, Sunset at the End of the Industrial Age. Buttery synth and elaborate vocal harmonies combine to levitate hairpieces at least a wee bit. This is the perfect synthesis of the pastoral wanderings circa thier second full length record, Wohaw, and the punk spunk junk of their first and third full lengths.
The band is still a New York two-piece tribe of Native American-obsessed truth salesaman, but after four full lengths (and two EP’s) sounds still virulently confident in thier jihad. Their take on the rock embraces proggy synth tones, eleaborate harmonies and jaw-dropping drum and guitar that is NO ACCIDENT, and can be seen in ragged glory when they come to your local rock hole.
So now you know the truth, and your course of action is quite sure. Trim the fat in your life and eliminate lesser musics – embrace the glorious pelt of this new record. The band will be touring, as bands do when records come out. Be a witness, go to the show and participate in a band at the top of their game – touring as a four-piece. Barring that, turn this rekkid on, turn it up and erase false reality.
Song: Cocaine Wedding
the USAisaMonster – Wohaw
Wohaw
When a record drops from the sky this fully formed and perfect, workers look up from the assembly line and smile. Conceived of as a double-LP, this record shakes furiously and lies down gently as it was recorded on mountain tops and a riot torn Michigan town. This release tells tales of lost nations and subjugated races and uses all means necessary in the rock arsenal … from flat-lined acoustica to frothing rockulism. The question really is this: are you ready to look in the mirror and let this into your earholes?
Its been almost 2 years since they released “Tasheyana Compost”, their last record on Load, and the game has been stepped up immensely. Songs are as dense as malachite – complex like an infinite layered onion. Moods on this double LP go from quiet campfire drone to suntan lotion slippery cortex massagings of Pheonix all-star Meat Puppetry. Slather on as needed.
Name brand spotters will compare it to bearded/pointy headed legends like MAGMA and the INCREDIBLE STRING BAND while more intelligent folks will just say “Wake the Fuck Up, its 2005”. You have your orders, Wohaw.
Song: Riff Scientist
the USAisaMonster – Sunset at the End of the Industrial Age
Sunset at the End of the Industrial Age
The fifth release as a two piece from this Bedford-Stuyvesant, NY duo knows as the USA is A Monster . From when your skinny finger hits , this record roars out of the gates with banshee driven fury. Definitely taking cues from chariot drivers such as Rush, Magma, Lightning Bolt, but blasting into their own regions of otherwordly rockulation.
Whereas the last record was a concept driven epic of over 70+ minutes with frequent rural electricity free moments, this record pulls wheelies around Stonehenge in a little over 45 minutes,. The songs are a bit more direct this time out and feature use of Gitmo crowd busters syntho action as well as the patented guitar4 olympiadz the band is famed for on the undie rock railroad.
Of course the USA is a Monster wants to turn the tide and prepare us for the time after the lights go dim on Western Civilization’s exhaust pipe party. For this, the words and sounds are of a war stomp. And the battle will rage, with the battle field location known as your mind! Not matter if you download this or buy this in a big box store, look up from your desktop unit and engage this record. It will show you the Shining Path and you know what to do…
Song: Too Many Moves
the USAisaMonster – Tasheyana Compost
Tasheyana Compost
the USAISAMONSTER is a brilliantly fried two-piece guitar and drums band of sun spotters hailing from Brooklyn, NY. The band has roved the planet with instruments strapped to their backs playing the tops of mountains, skin-melting deserts, and rusted out America. The band has trekked across Europe, America (too many times to count), and Mexico.
The sound of the record is a synapse firing melt of rock and other-wordly whisper. The rock goes from balls out to a gentle, massaging hand reaching into your cortex. Think astral plane hitchhikers like MEAT PUPPETS and SABBATH in the same mental fart as LOAD two piece terrorists. The fidelity of this record is total.
Song: Anal Lies