A sucker for anything that sounds like the crackly noise of a record over anything else, I’m prone to enjoy it even more when other natural ambient sounds like rain are part of the composition.
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LSD must not be a reference to the drug, because no amount of acid is ever this boring.
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If you distinguish between yelling and screaming, where the latter is a focused and pointed effort with a concerted intent to harm and/or raise alarm, this record is definitely yelling.
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Skronking art rock improvisation ep from a skronking garage noise guitarist who started a skronking pop band is always going to ok for skronking in my book.
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Remember how the tuning dial on a tuner would be weighty, to allow fine-grained hand-tuning of stations, and how it was amusing in 1995 to just spin it through the whole spectrum and hear flecks of everything, unconnected to anything else, just a bunch of pop noise? Not me.
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Is it that I’m from a factory town that miced sewing machines is interesting, or that close listening of anything well recorded is rewarding?
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This is to being happy a scratched 45 keeps getting stuck what The Field is to skipping cds.
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