I’m going to try and tamp down my excitement for Blind Thorns’ self-titled LP on four — count ‘em, FOUR — different labels, but… lord, it’s going to be tough. I simply wasn’t prepared to ride this record bareback. There should be a warning sticker on this motherfucker and I’ll tell you why: For all their tension-building subtlety, the Thorns also can tear your damn head off and shit down your neck. I learned this from “Orbital,” probably the sickest, shreddiest cut I’ve slice myself with since Hella and that Racebannon album remixed by Merzbow entered my life. It’s probably the nuttiest one minute I’ve spent listening to music, and it’s only the start of this aural journey through the nether-regions of the soul. We’ve also got Aa-style ritual tom-tom sacrifices; longform exercises in modality (think Zs); all-around chaos circa Fadensonnen; grunts reminiscent of Arrington Dionyso at his most violent; and even a bit of Raccoo-oo-oon pops up within the monstrous valleys of this seven-song beast, which I fear I’m not foreshadowing effectively. But I must forge on or admit defeat: The most salient song on offer might just be “A Railway Diversion,” a creepy coupling of abstract guitar in the style of a more minimalist Slint, cymbal rolls, random percussive ‘plink’s, picks scraping on shiny strings, and soprano warbling (or at least that’s what I think it is). There exists no vocabulary that could even capture a gleam in this track’s eye, but a particular band name keeps popping into my head: The great Black Neck Band Of The Common Loon (not to mention Weasel Walter/ugEXPLODE in general). Also captivating is “An Explanation Of the Birds,” an entry with no true center and, as such, has no rules to follow. Expect more of those pounding toms blasting out a tough-to-pin-down rhythm, atmosphere to spare (this could be an ambient track and it’d still be able to cup my ears in its hands), and a double-dose of what sounds like whale calls. And that’s all I got folks. Blind Thorns, for a band with exactly one album out, display uncommon maturity, betraying the trio’s experience in other bands of note (AHLEUCHATISTAS among them). I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If you ain’t lookin’ underground, you’s missin’ it.
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