We’ve got a lot to cover on this one. Bring an extra pencil.
First off: jeeps. I sure did flub this one up. See, thing is, I WAS gonna get y’all on the up and up by premiering this last week, when the gloriously wacko and squirmy and spicy Form A Log / Moth Cock LP actually hit the shelves, but, as time would tell, the earth shit all over my free time and the dang thing just didn’t get done. So, with that mentioned, I feel as if a few apologies are in order before things can get underway. I’ve let you down Mr P, and I’m sorry. I’ve let you down C Monster, and I’m sorry. I’ve let you down Hausu Mountain boys, and I’m sorry. I’ve let you down Form A Log, and I’m sorry. I’ve let you down Moth Cock, and I’m sorry. Public penance isn’t pretty. I’ve already whipped myself mercilessly, and for the past six days have been donning a hair shit, and now I’ve gotta crawl through the muck with you guys to show my sorrow for missing my deadline. I’m itchy and full of sores, and everybody keeps telling me to see a doctor and maybe take some “me” time. Thankfully, P and C didn’t chop off my hands like they said they were gonna do, and I don’t know any doctors, or who “me” is, so I was able to punch down some keys and cream out some sentences for you sweet readers about this split LP.
And just like that, to the matter at hand: have you ever combined the shake of three different bags, loaded them into a century-old opium pipe you purchased at a failing antique shop, then lit the crusted brass bowl with a burning smudge stick? If you have (props), then you’re probably already hip to this record. But, if you’re in the dark, then allow me to smooth this checkered blanket flat, light the candelabra, and unpack this surreal picnic basket of gelatinous audio. Galactic gurgles, alien handshakes, power line guitar plucks vibrating from toothpick picks, cassette loopiness, sampled obliteration, squeaky bubbles, rides of unconventional percussion, asphyxiated acoustic, shaving cream gunk, bouncy lilacs, and purged tonal snot weave together to fully form a maxed out canvass smeared with alignment and angled chaos. This is your destination.
And now, without further au jus, Tiny Mix Tapes is happy to present, in its entirety, Form A Log / Moth Cock LP: