Originally posted on June 15, 2010
You can bet you balls I’m checking out the Melvins/ISIS show at Webster Hall this Friday (6/18), and you can double-down your weenus that I’ll be listening to Stoner Witch no less than five times front-to-back this week in anticipation of having King Buzzo, Dale Crover and those golden gents from Big Business dump mud into my ears for 60 minutes.
The gorgeous pink pressing of this sludge/stoner classic (pictured here) came into my possession only about two weeks ago, after a rather interesting work/pleasure weekend in Chicago: I left for LaGuardia at 4am on Friday morning, arrived at Midway and spent the day hitting up Chi-Town’s media agencies begging for dollars and insight. I had a handful of Glenmorangie 18’s in the Signature Lounge at the 96th, I’m afraid of heights, so 96 floors above the street was an interesting place to find myself, whiskey in hand, face pressed up against the glass, and then stayed up for about two days straight. Let’s fast-forward to me walking on Bedford Avenue back in Brooklyn, NY at around 11:30am on Sunday morning, I haven’t slept for 56 hours and I see this hot little beast of a record staring at me through the window of my favorite local record shop: Earwax. The conversation went something like this:
“Hi.”
“My man, is that the pink pressing of Stoner Witch?”
“Yeah, dude.”
“Sweet, let’s bag that shit up.”
I whole-heartedly love this entire album, so it’s hard to pick faves, but if I had to make a dream setlist for Friday night, tracks 3-6 off Witch would definitely make it.
“Sweet Willy Rollbar” is just dirty; enough said. “Revolve” turns from thick chugga-chugga riffs to an outdoor-concert jamfest without warning and when it does; you get a hippies dancing around a pile of burning underwear vibe until it shifts back into the grind their best known for. “Goose Freight Train” is evil and groovy enough to fit on the soundtrack to True Blood; something the devil puts on to swoon an unsuspecting vixen. Be sure to check out the Bonham-esque airplane-hanger drums about 32 seconds into “Roadbull” and let them dry-hump your face before the whole distorted mess turns into a rather pretty little whistling ditty.
Ahh…there’s so much to talk about…the riff that kicks in at the 4-minute mark of “Magic Pig Detective” is almost a precursor to everything I like about the Foo Fighters, “Shevil” is kind of ethereal…
Anywho, the aforementioned 3-6 jams are loaded into the widget below. My horrible writing skills don’t do this masterpiece justice, so go buy the record. Also, NPR has posted the Melvins’ entire live set from Bonnarrooooooo. Lots of new jams from The Bride Screamed Murder, but it’s the tits nonetheless.
So psyched for this show.
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