Gallery Of Mites
Bugs On The Bluefish

But maybe you meant: Gloria Estefan?

Because maybe someone has already written it. But no, the crouching ruminant knows nothing of the Gallery of Mites that I type into the DeSearch Engine: the bovine eye does not respond.

Gallery Of Mites is the impromptu supergroup put together by Tim Cronin and his merry band of eccentrics: practically all the Monster Magnet (except Wyndorf) plus shady figures taken from Lord Sterling, Halfway To Gone, Black Nasa, and Solace. You say "stoner" but it's not stoner. A handful of songs born after some jam sessions among old friends and then the idea of an album made with precise coordinates, drawing from a sound imagery that is of the most bastard vintage rock'n'roll (1965-1970 the decaying and blood-drained season). Ten tracks that are a blazing mixture of Iggy Pop, early Stones, heavyfuzz'n'roll slobbering and badass garage rock. In other words, total chaos: two organ chords thrown there, fast-paced tempo, and maracas on the chorus ("Exploded View"); the self-ironic soundtrack for the worst topless bar in Las Vegas ("Headless Body"); the hoarse, raspy, and viscous voice, the result of unspecified abuses - alcohol? drugs? sex on a terrace at minus 2 degrees Celsius? severe coughing? - and the acid delirium of the wah-wah, plus kilowatts of guitars in 'superfuzz bigmuff' as sharp as a knife in butter ("X’s For Eyes") and again, the compactness of a muffled and "bubbly" bass that swims in the electric swamp like an alligator ready to leap onto drum patterns and take a couple of bites ("New York To Peru"). Perfectly calibrated and completely on point, there’s space for the special guest star John Garcia (Kyuss, Slo Burn, Unida, Hermano) who screams and rants like a madman in "100 Days".

Dirty, horny, and wild. Gallery Of Mites simply cite the best among the known (Stooges) and unknown (Union Carbide Productions) inspired by the proto-punk attitude of mid-60s American school bands (Swamp Rats, Sparkles) and end up churning out an album that certainly is not a masterpiece – in the series: "if I listen to the originals, isn't it better?" – but that shines for devotion and pays homage to an unforgettable and above all (for the undersigned as well as for the guys in question) UNBEATABLE era with its sound. "Bugs On The Bluefish" is a theoretical-practical demonstration of how the term "rock" today doesn't really mean a damn thing by itself. The indispensability of History should be used as a fantastic warehouse. And for the most skilled, a sound museum. The Gallery of the Myths: Stooges, MC5, Rolling Stones, Sonics….

But maybe you meant… Gloria Estefan?