Bob woke up on the wrong side of the bed one day. In fact, he fell out
of it, into a pile of his instruments. In a fit of rage, he flailed about,
raising a cacophony that lasted for not very long before he made it to the
bathroom and brushed his teeth. Fortunately, as he was flailing, he hit record
on a portable tape player, which captured his morning flail. Turns out the
ruckus makes for quite the scrambled noise punk improv, a scuzzy blurt of weird
rage directed at nothing but what life has to deal you every once in a while.
Like tumbling into the midst of your gear.
Tony Montana – NOT Tony Orlando! – was so enamored with Bob’s band Sex
Funeral that he made his own song about them. It’s as long as Bob’s three songs
on side A put together. It’s also in the exact same vein as Bob’s tracks, as if
somehow Tony was hiding in the closet when Bob did his side and tried to
improv/cover the proceedings in real time.
I’d actually like to see that happen.
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