Can't stop the mutant rock
McSpunkle | USA | 12/02/2009
(5 out of 5 stars)
"Back in 1968 Lennon, McCartney, Townshend and Daltrey went on a fishing trip. Little did they know the unassuming lake they had chosen for their weekend getaway was highly toxic. Well, after a smoke or two and some very fine whiskey, Daltrey capsized the boat, sending our heroes into the radioactive depths. Arms flailing about, the lads began mutating, their bodies fuzing together into some sort of twisted, hairy, mad musical beast. The four headed, eight armed creature slithered off to a nearby cave, where it would spend the next several decades soaking in and regurgitating every conceivable form of rock'n'roll: pop, prog, psych, punk, post-punk, etc. This mythological beast wrote song after song after song utilizing the most of it's collective genius. McCartney's melodical pop smarts, Lennon's sly anarchic wordplay, Townshend's ear for a killer riff and Daltrey's mic flipping, leg kicking showmanship. Years shot by, songs being churned out on a near hourly basis: concept albums, pop singles, side projects, this beast seemed unstoppable and never willing to call it quits...
Robert Pollard would kick this monster's ass in a song writing contest."
Mining for my Life.....
Dr. Foisgras | Portland, OR | 02/25/2010
(5 out of 5 stars)
"
If you have come to this point, you know how good it can be. You know that Bob Pollard has a treasure in his basement, and every so often, he gives a bit of it away. Yes, some of it is just stuff he found with a metal detector, some old shotgun shells and aluminum can tabs, but some of it, if you sift through, is like finding music you always knew was there, but didn't know how to find it. If you dedicate yourself to the purity of rock and roll, if you have no desires for success, or resign yourself to it never coming, if you record everything that emits from your head, you will eventually come to this. That this type of thing sits in a man's basement for twenty years is reason enough to believe in magic."