Midwest mayhem from Ohio's Puffy Areolas. The music spins round at 45rpm which seem strangely appropriate as this is a band that just doesn't fit the grooveless digital world.
For a start, "Gentlemen's Grip" is an out of control post punk lost in the lo-fi basement bit of unrelenting frenzy. Lyrics, what lyrics? No, these are the rantings of a madman. Way back when, they used to say that if you played a record backward, you would hear the Devil speak. This one sounds like it was recorded backwards. My woofers are cooking. A wail of feedback and we are back down at the crossroads again.
"Psychomania" is equally untidy verging on downright demented and just reeks of hostility. This is the kind of record that good Christians throughout the world will, and should, unite against. It's just plain out of control and not really a song when you think about it. It's more of a challenge to your manhood.
And "By The Hand"? Here we go with a post rock' n' roll instrumental that manically dances like an amphetamine crazed gerbil until it bursts.
I liked these songs. I must stop drinking Bacardi 151. I must stop eating those chilli peanuts you get at Aldi. I must stop playing with guns.