
Lowspot – Whirlwind
Modern art was a massive Psy-Op by the CIA, one long, muscular arm of U.S. force that’s not always as efficient as it is rumoured to be. That’s, at least, what word on the street is and what several unclassified documents seem to say. That, at least, would explain Jackson Pollock’s magnificent success and would make your opinion of “it’s just paint drops thrown on a canvas” sound a lot more legitimate.
Yeah, there was money all right thrown at trying to make American culture appear highbrow, butting edge, important. There were funds invested in getting American intellectuals to be able to look down upon their European counterparts whenever they went to Italy or France on work appointments. And, worst of all, it made the greatest U.S. contribution to culture, rock n’ roll, seem unimportant.
This is why I suggest you have a burger, roll the windows down on your obscenely large automobile and have big rock music pumping out of your speakers. Lowspot knows just how it’s done. “Whirlwind” is a song written by a band comfortable in underground punk-rock clubs and with great knowledge of what it takes to be played on rock radio. It’s energy-filled, it’s fun, and it’s so American that it might raise your cholesterol just from hearing it.
Head Wound – Air Koryo (Allow Me to Speak)
Modern pop and rock stars resemble polite waiters at a fancy restaurant. They’ll tell you how it’s going, offer you a glass of water and are always ready to take feedback. This fits the current business model of getting as many physical bodies into concert hall seats as possible. Modern music audiences have been told that they have power, that they have a say.
But they shouldn’t. When was the last time that your favourite band made it a point to annoy you? When was the last time that they wrote the kind of music that made you feel uncomfortable or that you had to listen to a few times before you decided that you liked it? Take that bravery and sense of mischief away, and we’d be stuck in the music enjoyed by your granny in her teens.
Head Wound sounds like a band made out of people who just can’t wait to mess with you, your imagination and your hearing should you step into the hearing vicinity of their music. “Air Koryo (Allow Me to Speak)” starts with a manic electro-punk beat that brings to mind The Screamers or Suicide. The vocals are shrill and uninviting. As soon as you’ve regained your balance and have nearly become comfortable with these new, strange sounds that seem to channel, a broken tape machine comes hissing out at you. This should make you feel uncomfortable. Let Kuwait shake!