Dude, I totally thought that I reviewed the new batch of smoke from Seattle scorchers Kinski, but, dude, I like, totally, didn't. Ha ha ha. Hey Cheech, bail Chong out of jail and let's get Half Baked with Chapelle and Goat Boy! Jeff Spicoli would fall out of his foggy ride to the sweet jane flame of Down Below It's Chaos, the third full length from the shaggy quartet on Sub Pop. To further trip your parents out when they ransack your room with a Federal narcotics officer in search of your secret stash, Down Below It's Chaos comes in a variety of colors.
Josh Homme would steal your girlfriend and punch your sorry puss in the face while quietly escaping the crime scene with the eruption of pandemonium felt on "Passwords And Alcohol," played lightly under the credits of your mind's final film. What are initially mellow sprays of drafty plucks like ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead abruptly combust into a maverick kaboom like the midnight enkindling of chemicals in a Dead Meadow.
"Boy, Was I Mad" trickles in like a creeping Black Sabbath master of reality, adventurous Pink Floyd abnormality, yet the eerie feeling of impending carnage never leaves the brain at moment. "Child Had To Catch A Train" is in fact a runaway locomotive, easily piercing the affable fabric of the space-time continuum, splitting the facile rails of potential energy with gimcrack guitars and no marriage to kindness. "Punching Goodbye Out Front" elicits a violent demeanor as sexy and precarious as Tyler Durden, which takes a ferocious bite of flesh off the face like Panthers or Fu Manchu.
The space needle quartet's ability to trash their meticulously illustrate pastures of sonic serenity which a hostile legion of crippling axes aimed for the base of your spine is like that of a stoned Svengali or blunted Bonaparte.
"Passwords And Alcohol"