Fatso Jetson
Stinky Little Gods

Palm Desert, California. Afternoons spent playing pool and smoking weed in desolate, dusty pubs. Years of experience in rattling bands just a little more than local: Across the River, Englenook, The Sort of Quartet, and especially Yawning Man, all bands to which Kyuss owe at least a couple of beers. Concerts organized in the middle of the desert, cowboy hats on their heads and a blinding cloud of dust.

Through drunken performances, strumming in the shadow of a cactus, poor-quality beers, and surfing on sandy dunes, the Italian-Americans Lalli (an obese man called 'boomer' and a nerd named Larry) built a reputation in the emerging stoner scene. And so, when they played as an opening act for Greg Ginn, they impressed him so much that they were immediately signed with SST. Well, in '94, it wasn't exactly the pinnacle, but can you imagine the satisfaction of signing with what has been the greatest independent label ever?

So, how does this debut album titled "Little Fetid Gods" sound?
For heaven's sake, it's a lively rock'n'roll record, full of character, tasty, experimental just enough. All the ingredients are in the right place: a good dose of Sabbath-like riffs as meaty as God intended, top-notch psychedelia, a pinch of avant-garde hardcore (remember, we're in SST territory), hallucinated desert-rock (Thin White Rope come to mind), noise that would make Sonic Youth envious, good old hard-rock, and finally a dash of folklore in the style of Camper Van Beethoven. In conclusion, there is even a ten-minute instrumental that wildly swerves between sparkling noise-rock, math rock, MC5, free-jazz, and untamed psychedelia, overwhelming the listener with waves of scorching sand and burning cacti.

What more do you want? These guys don't stop at the usual classic stoner album, they go way beyond, the years of darts, spoiled Mexican food, and moldy record collections were not in vain. No, because humility is not learned with success and loads of money. Fatso Jetson carved out their space by working hard, with dedication, passion, and above all, many substantial offerings to the Great Pagan God of Fuzz.

What are you waiting for? Jump on their beat-up van and unleash yourself in the sunny canyons of California.