These boys perpetuated an adequate amount of internet chat room gossip after their inexplicable-albeit short-lived-hiatus a few years ago. The drummer packed up and left for Berlin, and two other members hit Denver for whatever reason. They missed one another enormously though, and a few tear-stained letters went back and forth. Now the Bloodlet legacy has come back to embalm any “nice“ bands they get booked now with as they tour the planet relentlessly. Promoters, you have received your official caveat.
What goes on here-with the help of producer Steve “Nirvana“ Albini-is their attempt to one-up the Melvins, Isis, Trouble, and Cathedral (who all take turns with the championship belt for The Planet’s Heaviest Band now that the Swans are finished with it).
Scott Angelacos sings a good deal about blood and pain. What, do you want power ballads about loving you all night long, or dancing on the ceiling? The last time I heard yelling like that was when I dropped a huge framing hammer on my big toe. I can still see myself freaking out, as though I were really about six feet away, watching. The thing swelled like a beach ball, and the skin under the nail filled with angry purple blood. That first evening was the worst. I had nightmares the whole time, and they sounded like segments of this album, especially “Motel Surgery“. This band actually sounds like they’re doing similar things to Angelacos for the course of Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees (42:03). I won’t be having them over for tea any time soon, but I wouldn’t mind witnessing this live (from behind a plastic tarp to keep the blood, giblets and gristle off of my clothes).