what?
Alright who nicked James Johnson’s granola bars? Whoever it was, it wasn’t very nice because now the sonofabitch is really mad and he’s screeching his lungs out in a wildly unpleasant fashion (I’m insinuating he really likes granola bars when he’s probably just an enigma full of angst expressing himself in a way that he prefers). Sorry I really can’t get past the pretentious vocals. As dominant a fixture to this wilderness landscape as trees are to an actual wilderness, Johnson’s tribal chants fall squarely in the love ’em/hate ’em camp. Even the song titles I find a bit suspect (‘<….^….>’, ‘(p)ablum’). Colin McCann, whose siren leads punch holes in the songs’ post-punk ceilings, shares vocals on two tracks and worth noting is his excellent side project ‘Lord Dog Bird’ where he lays down awesome melodies on 4-track. Given the choice, I’d take the more modest ‘Lord Dog Bird’ to the art rock ball.
The 10th Chaffinch 