Electric
fuzz farmers The Woolly Bandits also pull a double shift as the 21st
century Seeds behind cosmic soulpusher Sky Sunlight Saxon, and it’s loud
and clear that they’ve picked up more from their boss than just the nine
names of The Devil’s handmaidens and a persistent THC smell.Say
Hello to My Little Friend(an unfortunate name, but hey) is thick
with circa-’66 West Coast garage whomp – sludgy guitars, Bo Diddley
backbeat, relentless keyboards buzzing over every tune like Green Hell
hornets, and miles of juvie hall snot-a-tude courtesy frontfreak Rick
“Crusader” Collins, who spits and groans and slings the
teenage blues in a strangled groan that evokes pleasant memories of Mike
Chandler from the late, lamented Raunch Hands. Songs are mostly in the
vein of booze hall pounders like “Hard to Forget You” and
the opener “Bomp Shu Bomp” (which sums up the Bandits’ sound
better than any cockamamie words I could apply to it), though a couple of
offramps to heavier, dronier psych are thrown in (as a chance to catch
your breath, I guess), with a cover of Syd Barrett’s “Octopus”
and the Kinks-ish “Molly’s Shell” being the most successful.
Sky Saxon himself is supposed to contribute to a track, but I couldn’t
hear his signature whine anywhere, even on their frantic rip through the
Seeds’ “Pushin’ Too Hard.” If it’s there, please mail me a
Q-Tip so I can dig the shit out of my ears; in the meantime, if you
haven’t destroyed your house or told your boss to go fuck himself lately,
The Woolly Bandits really want you to do that – and they’ve got the
perfect soundtrack for your flameout. ________________________________________________________
Electric
fuzz farmers The Woolly Bandits also pull a double shift as the 21st
century Seeds behind cosmic soulpusher Sky Sunlight Saxon, and it’s loud
and clear that they’ve picked up more from their boss than just the nine
names of The Devil’s handmaidens and a persistent THC smell. Say
Hello to My Little Friend (an unfortunate name, but hey) is thick
with circa-’66 West Coast garage whomp – sludgy guitars, Bo Diddley
backbeat, relentless keyboards buzzing over every tune like Green Hell
hornets, and miles of juvie hall snot-a-tude courtesy frontfreak Rick
“Crusader” Collins, who spits and groans and slings the
teenage blues in a strangled groan that evokes pleasant memories of Mike
Chandler from the late, lamented Raunch Hands. Songs are mostly in the
vein of booze hall pounders like “Hard to Forget You” and
the opener “Bomp Shu Bomp” (which sums up the Bandits’ sound
better than any cockamamie words I could apply to it), though a couple of
offramps to heavier, dronier psych are thrown in (as a chance to catch
your breath, I guess), with a cover of Syd Barrett’s “Octopus”
and the Kinks-ish “Molly’s Shell” being the most successful.
Sky Saxon himself is supposed to contribute to a track, but I couldn’t
hear his signature whine anywhere, even on their frantic rip through the
Seeds’ “Pushin’ Too Hard.” If it’s there, please mail me a
Q-Tip so I can dig the shit out of my ears; in the meantime, if you
haven’t destroyed your house or told your boss to go fuck himself lately,
The Woolly Bandits really want you to do that – and they’ve got the
perfect soundtrack for your flameout.