ROACH CLIP - Al Pastor
music for blown-out punk fiends that minds the gap between rotten psychedelia and acid dirt rock. originally released as a private press" cassette in an edition of six copies." - Nostilevo.\r\n
"Every year to commemorate the Carnaval of Santiago, my Cuban buddy Fortunado constructs this enormous structureve hollowed out flan in his back yard n then invites bands what to come play inside. Is am always surprised the thing never gets ate down (at the end theys douse it w/brandy, then set it ablaze) but thats another story. So this time someones called K-9 Sniffies & Roach Clip was the featured acts. Now Is have to come clean n say I didnt see neither ofem. Was way in the thickve of judgin a serious cachete taco eatin contest. And them Cristals was goin down like water too. Plus anytime I gets close to that flan hut I just feel all custardy. No thanks! Word was theys was both top notch. Always a plus. Anyhow, at some point in the evenin I seen Fortunados wife, Yanela, fannin herself w/this Roach Clip record. She looked pretty relaxed & maybe not a little too familiar w/the pitcherve sangria plopped down right in frontve her. She spied me makin my way, stood, smiled & breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, senor Woodbean, eh, the band, they want for you to have they record. So was for me to keep. My favor, you know? As music.......I am not so sure, but for, eh, ventilador, is most useful. Here", she thrust the record into my hand, "now is no more for me to look after. And I must go, wait for you has made me to starve. Lead me to the sesos! I can smell them frying. Or perhaps that is you, eh, Woodbutt"? With that she threw her head back n laughed. It sounded like a hyena bein impaled on a pike. Thank heavens she werent much ever in a good mood. Them jolliesd curdle milk. Despite Yanelas opinion, as music goes, this Roach Clip ep is a doozy. And w/a title like Al Pastor, is most prescient too. Its a rollickin ride through a panaceave frizzled audio crackle. Not unlike the Meat Puppets, 15 minutes after sheddin theys skin of the eponymous 1st lp but still burnt from that peyote scorch. Or maybe the Godz, lost somewhere in them 10 matrix numbers between Contact High & Godz 2, sortin it out through a Dubonnet hookah. Either way you bake it what yous got here is sounds as crisp as a chicharron gordita.So let your ears inhale." - Siltblog. Second pressing in new sleeves (pictured).
"Every year to commemorate the Carnaval of Santiago, my Cuban buddy Fortunado constructs this enormous structureve hollowed out flan in his back yard n then invites bands what to come play inside. Is am always surprised the thing never gets ate down (at the end theys douse it w/brandy, then set it ablaze) but thats another story. So this time someones called K-9 Sniffies & Roach Clip was the featured acts. Now Is have to come clean n say I didnt see neither ofem. Was way in the thickve of judgin a serious cachete taco eatin contest. And them Cristals was goin down like water too. Plus anytime I gets close to that flan hut I just feel all custardy. No thanks! Word was theys was both top notch. Always a plus. Anyhow, at some point in the evenin I seen Fortunados wife, Yanela, fannin herself w/this Roach Clip record. She looked pretty relaxed & maybe not a little too familiar w/the pitcherve sangria plopped down right in frontve her. She spied me makin my way, stood, smiled & breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, senor Woodbean, eh, the band, they want for you to have they record. So was for me to keep. My favor, you know? As music.......I am not so sure, but for, eh, ventilador, is most useful. Here", she thrust the record into my hand, "now is no more for me to look after. And I must go, wait for you has made me to starve. Lead me to the sesos! I can smell them frying. Or perhaps that is you, eh, Woodbutt"? With that she threw her head back n laughed. It sounded like a hyena bein impaled on a pike. Thank heavens she werent much ever in a good mood. Them jolliesd curdle milk. Despite Yanelas opinion, as music goes, this Roach Clip ep is a doozy. And w/a title like Al Pastor, is most prescient too. Its a rollickin ride through a panaceave frizzled audio crackle. Not unlike the Meat Puppets, 15 minutes after sheddin theys skin of the eponymous 1st lp but still burnt from that peyote scorch. Or maybe the Godz, lost somewhere in them 10 matrix numbers between Contact High & Godz 2, sortin it out through a Dubonnet hookah. Either way you bake it what yous got here is sounds as crisp as a chicharron gordita.So let your ears inhale." - Siltblog. Second pressing in new sleeves (pictured).
