Bongwater
Double Bummer

"Guns and Roses are the best rock band ever!" 

That's what my "little brother" said one day, in the midst of one of his many rambling talks about music.

"No, little brother. That's not it at all," I replied.

"You don't like them?"

"I think the Guns suck, but I get you. At your age, I went through the same thing. When you're fifteen, it's physiological: you get pimples, you jerk off a lot, and listen to the Guns. To take care of the first, there's Topexan; for the second, a nice girl... but for those posers, all you can do is be patient. After all, no fifteen-year-old listens to -what do I know- Bongwater, just to name a contemporary band. But then you grow up, your tastes mature, you like Bongwater, and you wouldn't be caught dead listening to the Guns anymore!"

"Bongwater? What kind of music do they play?"

"Psychedelic. But not really. Oh God, I'm not even sure they make actual music... they're just sounds. Damn sounds."

"Okay, I'll listen to them and let you know."

"Happy madness!" - and that was my final remark.

***

"Not properly music", huh? Not a great definition, I admit, but I've never been much of an ace with these offhand things.

Or perhaps it's precisely the creation of Mark Kramer and Ann Magnuson that resists any kind of definition. It's impossible to fully grasp this album, even after many listens: of the classic song form, only miserable scraps remain attached to a rhythmic bone: voices that now whisper, now proclaim on the radio, now explode in beastly screams, now stutter in unknown languages, distorted, sped up, slowed down, filtered, dirtied, abused, and then spread at the feet of a sonorous Tower of Babel Psychedelic-garage-kraut-gothic-post hardcore-noise-experimental rock.  

In those "damn sounds" I hear everything: the West Coast sound, the "Nuggets", the Cosmic Jokers, the Butthole Surfers, the Red Crayola, Frank Zappa, The Gathering, Jesus Lizard, Velvet Underground, Chrome, the No Wave-era Sonic Youth, some names before Bongwater, others after... but I imagine everyone can hear whatever they like, whatever they enjoy. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the dish Double Bummer: it's plentiful (Double CD), it has a thousand flavors per bite and is just waiting to be eaten, digested, and evacuated.

The rating swings between "no rating" and a full 5 stars. Maybe it won't make it into your regular playlist, but it has already carved out a privileged spot in mine. For me, now, listening to this album is as physiological as Appetite for Destruction was many years ago.

**laughs**

Enjoy your listen.

And happy madness to you as well.