Would you like to buy a goat?
Maybe the idea of The Melvins appeals to me more than their actual music.
I love the influence they have had on heavy music as the godfathers of sludge, their longevity and unselfconscious freakiness.
Yet while their albums underwhelm me, The Melvins have a knack for the killer twelve.
One of my most treasured records of my early teens was King Buzzo from their series of EPs in tribute to Kiss.
Tapes, remember them? They sound like crap.
Buried under thick layers of fuzz, tape noise and feedback is this odd but endearing little gem.
Then again the murky scuzz this three-song tape is such a part of the appeal that I would hate to see it buffed clean.
Concrete Altars, the debut from Virginia duo Terraset, mixes up dirty doom and sloppy punk before burying it deep under six feet of grunge.
The vocals forgo growls or shouts for a Mark Arm style drawl, as well as the occasional frothing gibber. In fact the whole shebang wierdly reminds me of a filthier, more metal version of Green River or early Mudhoney.