Man, you know sometimes you get the feeling "i've been here before" and you search a totally alien scenery for some suggestion of familiarity; or when you're talking to someone and you can't remember how (or if) you know them and you stare at their face, searching every detail for a feature you can recall, anything, any trait that will suggest something- open up a doorway. This tape feels like a long string of those, low rumbles that extend for a long time, sounding like a place i used to visit in brooklyn right by the expressway with the hypnotic thudding of trucks passing over a bump, over and over and over while you're half asleep. some surface being scratched, a barrel knocked over by the wind rolling back and forth on the opposing handles all night. The type of scene or setting a director would use to suggest a little kid with straight hair and cold blue eyes is evil or has super powers. this whole tape is like that with varying degrees of minimal flittering and chirping mixed with a couple of melodic pieces (my favorite at the end of the first side gets cut off!) and even a weird vocal/percussion track that is a real stand out, but again, gets cut off...
black and white "old school" style cover, looks like it would be a harsh noise tape from the late 80's, silhouette of a church, all caps lettering, really belies the content of the tape in some way, but in other ways, you know, an Omen / Argento type of feel, it doesn't. black tape with letter markings, "limited edition" still available from the label:
http://www.animaldisguise.com
Showing posts with label Warmer Milks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Warmer Milks. Show all posts
WARMER MILKS “In This Room” (Fuck It Tapes)
Mikey T. continues his careless hopscotch hitch-hiking across musical modes, this time sitting on the edge of a hotel bed and playing 11 very straightforward, mid-fidelity singer-songwriter tunes into a microphone. Two are covers, the rest are originals, but it doesn’t much matter as they all operate in identical emotional terrain: slightly bummed, strum-heavy, mumble-folk. The lyrics are rarely discernible and never memorable, and the acoustic guitar-work is mellow and traditional (makes even straightjacketed normalcy folk outings like “James and the Quiet” seem wildly psychedelic). On a couple tracks he lets things fray a bit at the edges and get slightly free/outsider but that’s very much the exception not the rule. Once again I reach the conclusion of a Warmer Milks album feeling strangely let down and confused.
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