Basically, a collection of Gus Coma style audio collages, lo-fi rock drone blasts, prank phone calls to a Redneck-Taliban radio broadcast, and a hilariously buffoonish on-air radio appearance by the band as young men. The collages are pieced together and piled up very nicely indeed, even when you can tell they put no effort into it at all . "Personal Blow Job," for example, is just a Throbbing Gristle-style synth drone with electronic drums laid atop a pathetic old "aural sex" wanking record that begins with the irresistable romantic come-on, "This is Wendy, and as soon as I swallow this mouthful of cum....gulp"...etc). I personally find this stuff entertainment personified, gimmie a formless racket atop a dialogue recording of purile porn or of neo-nazi religious idiots and i am in Heaven; even though Heaven doesn't and cannot exist philosophically, and/or logically. In my happy little Nietzchian dystopia, this record would be played at least once a year for allllll eternity as my constituent sub-atomic particles drift into an empty, hopeless, oblivion.
Recorded 1983–84 at the corner of Powell and Market, San Francisco, CA.
Side A:
- Don't
- Fog Hotel
- Personal Blow Job
- Billy Put That Bomb Away!
Side B:
- Laundry Room Satanist
- Local 98 Rock
- A homosexual Revelation
- Last Outpost
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