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Математический хардкор из Америки. Группа «Завейся и умри» с первым альбомом «К несчастью мы не роботы». Уже весело. То-то ещё будет. Блистательные по своему содержанию первые 4 трека по 5 секунд, затем начинается типичное хардкоровое безумие – резкая, ломанная ритм-секция, перегруженные гитары и надсадный ор вокалиста, мгновенная смена настроений и неожиданные паузы. Группа, кажется, применила все методы, чтобы предстать перед обществом полными отморозками, раздолбаями и людьми не от мира сего. Почти что удалось, но главное: получилось весело и совсем нескучно, в основном жару поддаёт барабанщик - простое и механистичное отстукивание сменяется настоящими взрывами со сбитым ритмом, экспрессия на пределе, в этом альбому не откажешь. Песни довольно короткие, кроме 10 и 15 треков. «You'd Be Cuter If I Shot You In The Face» - самая необычная вещь на альбоме. Гитарная мелодия в начале, затем яростное рубилово, потом перерыв из неспешащей мелодии и резких ударных и снова очередной выброс адреналина. Заключительная «Rich Hall» - неожиданно спокойное и долгое окончание, отдых после рваного ритма и всепроникающей злости. Такая же «кибернетическая» как и сама музыка обложка. Соответствующие названия песен. Кажется, что этим ребятам совершенно параллельно, будет ли альбом слушать кто-либо, кроме самих создателей. Но за это им вряд ли стоит волноваться – «кому надо» найдёт и послушает. Сделано на совесть, а ударнику особое спасибо – взрывает мозг, по-другому не скажешь. «Ted Nugent Goes AOL» - один характерных примеров, а на «Total Pandemonium» уже другая напасть - вокалист просто сходит с ума прямо на записи (больше чем обычно, во всяком случае). Эта пластинка цепляет своей техничность (Mathcore всё-таки) и чисто панковским протестом и стёбом. Так что небольшая начинающая группа выпустила очень сильный для своего уровня альбом. К несчастью мы не роботы. И вправду, жаль. |
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6. On The Run From Johnny Law Ain't No Trip To Cleveland
These sentences slip past these ghost town images of my sundays. indecisive, this was the car accident. coiled in lost perspective to horrid tales of expectation. reread words wrote wrong into this disillusion. somewhere in the insomnia of always not knowing. i'd rather be dead.
7. Ted Nugent Goes Aol
When we stood and wiped away your eyes and reached for our heart's last beat. not once did you look back for me. not once did you hold me without the thought of him. switched off minds melt away in processed conversation. barely breathing, i am the diseased. we are the hidden agendas staring as we are decaying, eagerly waiting to breathe (see). we are all dead. these burnt buildings for him and a city worn away, i'll crush those roses before we meet again. and for the fallen, i've finally given up on you. (singed lips bleed softly from all to hell.) there's no fear in machinery. there's no point in any of this.
8. Total Pandemonium
We set our heads to rest and fall out of form and grow numb enough to never move again. we lose our sights and these roses no longer blossom. i fail to hear these sounds now. tightly our hands felt for eachother's when we said goodbye. the exquiste architecture ruined our blessed nights and we can no longer pretend. for months for these memories to melt away at the most akward of moments. this is my last word, my lost love. we will never meet again.
9. Doctor Doom, A Man Of Science, Doesn't Believe In Jesus, Why The Fuck Do You
The rain now floods the bridge we stood so desperately between. the sky has lost its color seperating the battered from the dead. almost close enough to kiss the tears from your face as i lie beaten and unable to stand. remembering when we said, "let's just sleep and pretend that this is never going to end." ten days to come, three weeks to pass, and now she's gone again. the most delicate of love shatters somewhere between the lines, somehow between the fights. and sometimes the print drips ink that we'll just never understand. these gifts are held in warning to them, and we can't forget, she's gone.
10. You'd Be Cuter If I Shot You In The Face
Drawing this box for you to recreate me into something i can never be. disease turned these clouds a infinite light and the winds a translucent glow. it seemed so easy to quit everything to remember. transmitted recordings of robot tracks to forget how everyone sounds. tightly formed mechanical wings, dwelling on how to save us all. never in control, never really having a chance. we're all useless with our eyeliner dripping in red. we let it fester always knowing that it was coming and i'm hearing things in my head. i'm hearing things all wrong. these arms failed to lift when my eyes forgot to open. everything left offsetting through the dryed paint that creates these butterfly wings, twitching and teasing now. standing here one year later with signs of red shining through a decade more. among the morning light of bedroom walls deafeated to know the danger in this. it's so easy to forget everything we swore we'd remember. we're all useless. if only i could keep the eyeliner from running i'd drive these roads to kill my own kind.
11. Make Like A Computer And Get With The Program
When we see each other again will it be this cold? tired from the week and unscheduled events i hope i understand. wide awake, my eyelashes desperately flutter to let myself fall back into what she had woven so well. sealed lungs shut with your open mouth to my spine. early morning to make it through this haze, beautiful memories now only haunt me. things like this never last. wasted time rearranging what i was trying to omit, leaving the saliva scented ruin upon my wrists. so young, wasting this tired life on endless thoughts and endless nights, and i end up nothing to you, not a fucking thing and i am fucked up again. (i was nothing to you.) i guess the talents will always outweigh the flowing constant streaming so perfectly through, trying to erase the now for then. i have dreamt every night of being on that train with you, but i won't be on that train tonight. i'm not at your convience.
12. Your Idea Of Facism And Global Intervention Makes Me Puke
Pull these scars from my face of overreacting. scissor snip the concrete hollow medication. programmed thinking, thinking almost as fast as me. we wore out talking in unfamiliar language. i dreamt of philadelphia thinking it was new york. i wished for this hoping it was real. over the ringing of my chest i heard the phone and in this dream, she came in red hair. for every inch of her was delicate and detailed by a fond interest and i'll give anything, anything to be put back at ease. for anything i'd forget myself to become the dance so you'd be in love with me. i wished for you hoping this was real. counting hours of sleep to catch some cure and just an ounce of rest. the texture kills these nostrils. these photographs flood fading to their complimentry Roraschach tests. biting at nails as you sleep quietly amongest the feathered lights of easing tranquility. i kiss myself to catch any taste of you left upon me. i hold the empty air believing only for you. i drown in these tears and every sentence runs through over and over to become deadly comfortable.
13. Lost My Job To A Machine
Seeing in fevers going blind from all the cancer that bound these wires together to end the communication. the distance from it all is what it takes. by then it will all be over. we all fail from disorders.
14. Kissing You Is Like Licking An Ashtray
Letters smear like butterfly wings for this pulse which lost itself into mechanisms and diagrams. she found me upon lonely traveled roads wading through these unforgiving waters. through the unfamilar voice of acheivements and this coincidence. these are the subtle moments that frame us with her voice now heard across these great distances. we couldn't keep our arms around each other long enough to fall in love. silence clenches this throat in ten years past.
15. Rich Hall (Runner Up In A Carson Daly Lookalike Contest)
Away from the rivers we gather our things for tonight. apart from the ocean the smell of this worn away machine carrys her away. alone i said to myself, "i will wait for you." the city shined shades of white tonight. covering all the filth, it almost seemed safe here. clouded city now hidden by the crowded structures and her lost citadels. you never wanting and me never knowing, we move on. tired angel buried beneath the towering divide come back to me, wake from your slumber. for all the reasons these fingers never wanted to quit drawing yours. (these words were all for you.) like a story she read once i lie in an empty bed. together we're better seperate. i'm better off alone. this quick romance has killed me.