Hey all you party rockers in tha hooooouse tonightt, my name is Elvis AKA the Brandon Lee Lookalike #41 AKA the Sexual Spiritual Healer AKA the RailMage the MaleRager AKA the Human Soviet Invasion and I bring gifts of a Southern Rock variety for all yall! No it ain't no MOTHERFUCKIN ted nugent, this is ACID. BATH. DUDE, the greatest band name ever. Close your eyes now, imagine that shit. A bath of acid. An acid bath. Not like putting Mexicans in your porcelain bathtub then pouring hydroflouric acid all up in it, I'm talking like Mortal Kombat giant pools of green acid that eat away at the flesh and leave skeletons floating around in them like umbrellas in those fruity cocktails at Disneyland. Now that is fucking sick. The music? Appropriately sick as well.
John Wayne Gacy's greatest achievement, next to humiliating the Secret Service
For you Melvins, Eyehategod, and Buzzov*en fans, you know the drill. Get high on paint thinner, nail wood over all the portholes in your building, and have three televisions available for escapist purposes at any given moment. For those more inclined to St. Vitus, Trouble, or other Christian metal acts, or southern rockers into Kid Rock and hick hop acts, well, this is that great white underbelly to the shark of "Southern Hospitality". If the graceful top half is the Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Green Book, and Gone With The Wind, then the great underbelly is Acid Bath, William Faulkner, and... Gone With The Wind. Lives that exist in a whirwind of torment, child abuse, drug addiction, and hopelessness documented in sludged-out guitars, tempos that alternate between suffocatingly slow and breakneck speed, and vocals that alternate between violent screaming and beautiful crooning, like slipping in and out of consciousness between the waking world and the beautiful dreams one has then forgets while high. Just about 90% of this album is the purest of sludge metal one can wish for, thundering stomps such as The Blue, Finger Paintings of the Insane, and The Morticians Flame keep the pace between the death metal Death-homages such as Cheap Vodka and God Machine just in case you were the type of purist to find moshable music "unworthy" of the doom metal scene.
Most notable here are the softer cuts, Scream of the Butterfly and The Bones of Baby Dolls. I understand the vocalist Dax Riggs went on to release some solo albums of the blues-flavored variety, and given the quality of these cuts, the AIC/Metallica acoustic guitar lines, beautiful singing, and rich in dark atmosphere, it's a shame Acid Bath didn't go a similar route. The kind of music that you can play in front of the ladies while sharing a nice pitcher of Yuengling outside the pizza bar, a nice reprieve from the suffering. For any reader of this blog I'd recommend the album for these tracks alone, but any true reader of this blog going on this long has most certainly been indoctrinated in the ways of the s l u d g e so really listen to this album motherFUCKER
"o yea muthafucka i'm high" cajun poetry at its finest
Let this album not only be an enjoyable experience whether intoxicated or stone cold sober and a warning to the dangers of your neighbors, but also a cautionary tale on the pure evil of copyright laws. Wondering what the fuck I'm talking about? Just look up Acid Bath songs on YouTube, see how fuckin far you get. It's not a crime to listen to music on U2b man, c'moooon maaaaaaaaaaan u weren't theeeeeeere maaaaaaaaan
Comments
Post a Comment