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comets on fire, "field recordings from the sun"
If I didn't know both the name of this band and their album title, I honestly would have guessed they recorded this with the full intention of creating a overpoweringly bright image of a glass lense amplifying the sun's light to such an unbearable degree, that everything else in sight becomes a mush of yellowy wash. Hold your hand up to your face but you still can't block the intensity.
In a word, this quartet's second album is simply "unavoidable," in that the minute the bombastic hippie rock sounds in, all other ambient sounds are eclipsed. It's due to the combination of fuzzy guitar, over-distorted vocals, a messy wash of cheap effects and quiet breaks much like the rustling of wind chimes and dangling outdoor objects in Kansas as the sky grows from blue to black, moments before the tornado rears its ugly head and destroys every trailer in sight. Picture Animal from The Muppets going berzerk on the drums as a crazed LSD-freak screams and can't stop wiggling the whammy bar. Occasional guitar shredding can probably be partially blamed on producer Tim Green, who makes ironic 80s retro-metal with the Fucking Champs. The most charming aspect is probably in its brutal live feel. At moments like the second song, "Return to Heaven," this album could easily be mistaken for a live MC5 session sans singer Rob Tyner. Grab some cheap beer, phone some friends and bring your earplugs, playing this album on a Tuesday night (with the volume on 11) is a great substitution for a lack of killer rock shows in your dull town.
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