aaron dilloway: nate young: heather leigh murray & richard youngs: nackt insecten: stereo: glasgow
nackt insecten: dude’s on a rug with boxes full of e-lec-tri-city, birthing the sound of a million needles being dragged across a million santana records. everything’s wired, everything’s at the wrong speed. lethargic cathedrals collapse. the sound of one giant fucked
reverberating forever across the horizon. shiva’s third eye stares me down. a tongue snakes deliciously into my ear…
richard youngs & heather leigh murray: is this blues? is this folk? is this amazing grace orgasmically reimagined forfuckingever by a deconstructed army of spastic hendrixes? twelve strings (no blood drawn) shriek and fizz while shirley collins not-dead ghost wails and warns of dangerous voltage as a siren uvulutes wantonly. someone should be wearing leather trousers here…
nate young: a slow organic thrum, tar and biology and guinness damaged beyond repair yet cranked out amplified with mastodon mogadon unfury. abandoned factories and a keening lament mumbles among the rubble. a buggered reality where nikola tesla and thomas edison take bad drugs and form one man doom bands till the machines take over and crush us all…
aaron dilloway: someone says motherfucker made urine burn. says motherfucker made stabbed in the face. says motherfuckers gone all matmos and shit. it was almost pretty wasn’t it? like a garbage disposal wearing lipstick. you might lovingly tenderly stroke its rouged, perfumed mouth but you wouldn’t put anything pinkandfleshy in there would you? the sound of burbling brooks and iron man fisting an amplifier…
for the someone. something live, something unwholesome:
