In the event that you’re able to catch a Sex Funeral show, I suggest
that you put a stranglehold on that opportunity. I’ve never seen them – Des Moines,
or Dubuque, or “Somewhere,” Iowa, is at least a day’s drive from where I live,
and I can’t commit a full day for a basement free-jazz/noise improv/metal show.
God, I wish I could though. From the evidence I’ve gathered within It Takes a Village to Raise an Imbecile,
I can conclude that the duo comprising Bob Bucko Jr. on sax and Matt Crowe on
the kit would rival any Load duo going today (or fifteen years ago, for that
matter). Is Personal Archives or 5cm the Load of the Midwest? Nah, but still –
the wowed reaction of the audience in the moments coming down from a
particularly knotty and intense period of thrashing says it all. It could be
Lightning Bolt up there. Pink and Brown. Mindflayer. Everybody’s waaay excited,
and BBJr and Crowe are in complete command of their collaboration. Side A is a
live recording entitled “0321016 Fremont,” and side B is “061816 Bluelight,”
each title denoting the time and place of the recording’s creation. Each
single, lengthy track can be described as a face-melting barrage of violent
shreddage, leaving a wide swath of wreckage in its wake. That’s how I like my
improv duos to behave, don’t you? Manifesting themselves as industrial-strength
wrecking crews across basements and small clubs throughout the good ol’ US of
A. If the cassette title holds true and indeed It Takes a Village to Raise an Imbecile, then Sex Funeral is the
village and we are the imbecile, sitting at home, playing their tapes on
repeat, too dumb, unlike the live audience, to wander home and care however we
can for our blistering tinnitus. I guarantee we’ll be waking up the next day
with a massive headache either way. But the night before? So worth it.
--Ryan Masteller
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