time Kretch come on, I'm convinced I'm Charles Bukowski, having just stumbled
into Geffro from SixFtHick and told him that he could take a shit on stage and
I'd still think it was the best gig I'd ever seen. Go figure. Luckily, Kretch
are fucking awesome-the lead singer looks like the bastard child of Peter
Garret, Ron Peno and Jello Biaffra, and the band sounds like The Sex Pistols if
they had been good, The Dead Kennedys who were always good and The Jesus Lizard
who could plunge small African nations into famine and still be good.'
Downfall, the new album from Spooky Record's latest
signing. Kretch presumably has a genuine meaning (and one that might be
traced to the band's Yugoslavian origins), but it sounds like the sound you'd
make when you realized every last piece of shit that could go down around you,
had in escapable mind-fucking fact, actually gone down. It'd be at that point
that you'd either go postal, or pick up a guitar and write a song like
Downfall, replete guitars that burn your senses like a red hot iron stabbed
into the side of your face, warbling vocals reminiscent of a man condemned for
the sins of humanity and a beat so precise it gives rhythmic life to the order
that lies within chaos.
Or maybe you'd reflect on a dysfunctional booze-and-coke relationship gone
horribly wrong with a track like Second Opinion, champion the
devil-may-give a shit rock 'n' roll lifestyle in Four Fingers or lament
the moment of love for the pain its absence brings in 100 Years.
Then you might embrace the seedy underside of punked out blues in Hi Fi Blues
to reflect on your regrettable loss of control or even skirt round like the
edges of Parisian romance in C'est Vrai in a vain of hope at finding
something, anything to cherish. Or why not take some of the finest grinding rock
chords heard since Bay Area in 1979 and celebrate a brief moment of emotional
bonding of Inside You, take a simple but dangerously groin thrusting riff
in OD to narrate a young life destroyed by drug use, or take a linear
narrative and smash it to buggery with the pounding guttural chordage of
Broken English Rock 'n' Roll. And by the time you've laid your world bare in
Feelings, you've still got time to spit in the face of the nay-sayers in
Ignorance, and describe a world where your history defines your fate.
Life isn't bad for everyone as it may have been for Kretch-there's some shit
going on here. But for everyone who's pissed off, fucked up, chewed up, spat out
and stomped into the gravel of existence, Downfall is for you. Listen,
weep and enjoy the moment.
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