Don't ask me what DR503 stands for, could be a Roland Drum Machine,but can't be arsed to google it;not relevant.
This is Dead C in half-baked song mode, caught in the no man’s land of composition and improvisation. These tracks seem to be songs, but they don't really qualify as such. A half thought of a constructed song, ripped apart by the need to explore the sonic extremities of unpopular sound. The sounds that record company producers and engineers have told us are awful and worthless!? What do those insiders know about anything?......fuck all, is the answer. The number of great groups they have ruined throughout the decades amounts to a cultural atrocity of jail-able proportions. When I think about how great Pink Floyd were before EMI got hold of them, turned them into some rinky dink mickey mouse psychedelic group,and forced Syd towards insanity ;I start to spontaneously implode! (although I do actually like “Piper at the gates of Dawn”,but that ain't the point!)
The Dead C explore all these areas that were hitherto thought of as unlistenable. Like they are recorded by a set of tin cans and string instead of microphones, direct to a wax cylinder. Decades of Hi-fidelity technology is laid redundant in just a few short crackling, fizzy detuned notes.
This is the Dead C's debut album, and the fact that it has very little of that “please like me” attitude of many a debut recording, is something to cherish. This is the sound of a dying society, and the funeral dirge for the rock'n'roll myth.
|7||I Love This||3:09|
|9||Max Harris 2||13:36|