Why had I not heard of this Zach Hill (Death Grips, Hella) side project before? The I.L.Y.s hit a lot of my targets — noisy, harshly pop, and completely willing to blur the line between the analog and the digital. The video for tonight’s feature track is also something to behold, though I’d avoid it if you have a thing about bugs. Lots of bugs.
A rowdy, loving tribute to The Cramps, even rawer and more intransigent than the original, from two women furiously channeling Lux Interior and Poison Ivy.
The mason laid a bare hand on the stone block. It was nearly three hours since the sun had set, yet the western-facing brick, part of the multitudinous grid that made up Port Blair’s Cellular Jail, still retained a significant amount of heat. The cryptographer glanced back at the yelp of surprise, but continued scraping a sample into a container with a microchip at its bottom using a dental tool, humming along with Caribbean tango audible in the distance. They were supposed to meet the man with the elephant down at the beach in only forty-seven minutes. It was still unclear why the plan called for such a journey as part of their extraction to Viper Island.
Spencer delivers another trash-talkin’, leg-humpin’, hip-grindin’ album in his particular inimitable style.
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