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Apes |
 Wow,
these Ape-people are plenty funked-up, Jack. Apes is a
multi-gendered collective of toad lickers from DC with no guitar player,
but lotsa fuzzy organ bleating and huffy bass wang-dang. Their rock n’
roll alchemy is equal parts 70’s sludge (i.e Sabbath, Grand Funk)
and 60’s psyche-space rock, played with all the hairy, scary freak-force
of a hippy Chrome. It’s so weird it makes ya feel like there’s
stuff crawling on you, yet it’s heavy and groove-encrusted enuff to make
even die-hard stoner-rock kids bang their heads in slow,
badly-synchronized motion. They’re kind of like Stinking Lizaveta
if SL didn’t know how to count, or Cherry Valance if the
Valance were a buncha grizzly bears, not people, or the Doors,
if the Doors weren’t so fuckin’ lame. “Tapestry Mastery”,
the Apes latest-but-not-only album, apparently has three ‘stories’
threading through it’s 6 tracks, but I cannot verify that, since the whole
thing just sounds like a three ring circus slowly melting in the sun. In a
good way. Nothing, of course, is better then drugs, but “Tapestry
Mastery” will surely do in a pinch. ______________________________________________________ |
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-Sleazegrinder |