Melvins
Melvins Vs. Minneapolis

THE REVIEW

Hey, I'm talking to you.

Yes, you who haven't stopped shaking your ass while listening to the riff of "Suicide in Progress", who haven't yet tired of listening to the latest carnage that goes by the name of "Nude With Boots" and who haven't stopped loving the most tireless band on the planet. Middle-aged people who have had a 25-year career, who have never bowed to market logic and instead loudly told them to fuck off (many of them want demos but I refuse to make demos for a group of 24-year-old little assholes who need to tell me what's right and wrong in my music - said our hairy life master referring to the major's tormentors) but who, despite everything, have reached this twenty-first century and don't look bad playing live at a children's show. They still have a lot of energy, despite their silhouette. And that's a good thing.   

Obviously, I'm talking to you, Melvins fan. Yes, you, you're about to receive some great news. 

Our guys have created "Melvins Vs. Minneapolis" which with its 3 discs containing 11 live shows, with its silk-hand-covered box set and with its hyper-limited edition (everything will be produced in 666 hand-numbered copies for the legendary Amphetamine Reptile) will be the onanistic desire of your evil fetishist side.

An immense live set that retraces their origins ("Youth Of America"), dusts off masterpieces too quickly forgotten (there's a massive dose of "Hostile Ambient Takeover") and evokes recent illustrious collaborations ("Pigs Of the Roman Empire"), without neglecting the great classics of "Houdini", "Lysol", and "Stoner Witch". A perfect setlist that perhaps overlooks the very first historical albums but shifts the focus to the second part of their career just to remind those assholes who think they've been stuck since "Bullhead", that they are still here and make more noise than any crappy band spewed out in this last decade.

The Melvins tank, led by the evergreen awarded Osborne-Crover, in its primordial power unfiltered by the studio dimension, two eternally battered drums, amplifiers turned up to the maximum and a murderous Rat: STOP!

It's time to fork out the cash and make your guts dance a little.

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