Monday, March 9, 2015

AxCx - Morbid Florist...all of it


 Riff mark - oh man


Boy. Positives first: it’s very likely the loudest album of 1992. It has slightly better recording values than Scum. Also, it’s not John Zorn. Negatives: eighteen minutes of sixty-minute noise. Blast beats over distorted guitars, played with sugar-and-Steel-Reserve attention spans mirroring those of vocalist Seth Putnam, a post-GG inverted artist who thrives on inside jokes and bigotry. I don’t know what he’s getting at, he just squeals indiscernibly all the fucking time on Morbid Florist, in what could debatably be the greatest (I use this adjective loosely) vocal performance in this subcategory of metal, or something like metal and hardcore and grindcore (whatever, they’re signed to Earache). These are troubled kids not giving a flip. Monotony + general disdain for fan base = these gems for song titles: Some Songs, Even More Songs, Some More Songs, Song #5, Song #6, Slow Song from Split 7”. I think one of those stretches five minutes and the rest are less than one. Fine, it’s a blur that starts and stops, then the track number on my CD changer bumps a digit. Laughed at the EMF and Eddy Grant covers, if you can call them that. God, I’ve written too much about this stuff and now unify with a niche that spends more time analyzing the band than the band does tapping creative veins. AxCx is an irregular triad of grindcore, performance art, and comedy. Music by a thread; as long as it holds sticks, strings, and microphones, it requires expectations.

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