Lamps? Jeezum crow -lemme tell you, I been in this biz since your shortpants were in shortpants, and I thought I'd seen all seventy shades of suck before those two-bit mopes disgraced the stage. And I'll bathe in piss if they didn't blow my most dire conceptions of horrible right out the fucking water but good. Like shooting a goddamned baby goldfish with one of them torpedos they used to sink battleships back before crybabys took over all the wars, that what it was. First, that bassist; Christ almighty , where did they find that guy? Gayer then a hat shop, goddamnit. I coulda swore both his eyes faced different directions. Then you got that drummer, looks like the labcoats should be chasing him with their butterfly nets. And that other guy, the guitarist? I can smell a sex offender from forty ought paces, and that guy stunk to high heaven a mile away. Good goddamn fuck, I nearly had to gouge out my fucking eyes before they started even playing. Shit. I was just about to give up the ghost, then they started. Derivative isn't even the word - "fuck" is way more like it, as in "fuck these guys, they suck." I ain't lyin'. No sir. The drummer is bangin' away like he's got nothing fucking better to do, the bassist is whomping around randomly on his shitbox bass and dancing like Mary Fucking Poppins, and you can't even hear individual notes from the faggy guitarist, just a big wash of trebly feedback shit. Real loud, too, REAL FUCKING ORIGINAL, MOTHERFUCKER, MAKING IT ALL LOUD AND SHIT TO FOOL PEOPLE. I AIN'T BUYIN'. Makes me fucking sick. Pretentious fuckers of mothers. Then , to add insult to injury, the assholes all take turns singing, and they all sing like fucking hobos with brain damage. Fucking insult to the fucking human voice. Fuck all of them, shoot them on sight, then bury them in the shittiest place you can find and piss on their fucking bones. They suck. Normally I ask for money to pen my extremely valuable thoughts about music (these clothes aren't fuckin' free) but I hated those cocksuckers so much I agreed to do this gratis. That's how much I hate those fucks.
TERMINAL BOREDOM REVIEW:
Lamps "Tim Ford" 7"
Tim Ford is in The Lamps and is also the cover model on the well-photographed sleeve of this 7" (bonus points for including his(?) dog on the back sleeve). His namesake tune is another threatening example of the primordial slop the Lamps have been cultivating over the past couple LPs. Throwback rock, but not like a less-is-more return to basics, but a subhuman decline to a hit-things-harder-and-louder sort of principle. Raw, like before man walked erect or like the bad-ass fish-things that crawled from the sea and began living on land before the dinosaurs were even fucking around. De-evolutional rock. Coming back from that tangent, this thing is just savage and bloodthirsty. The vocals sound as if they are being force fed to you by a 6'7" 285 pound monolith of a man. Brutal. Blunt. Do not fall asleep after listening to this record, and if you do, make sure your life-partner wakes you up every fifteen minutes and rolls you on your stomach. Then get checked out for post-concussion syndrome in the morning. B-Side drags a Drunks with Guns song a few more rungs down the evolutionary ladder. Wow. Scum stats: 200 on brown 300 on black. (RK)
(Hook or Crook // www.hookorcrookrecords.com )