Lawdy Mama, I sure do miss Lynyrd Skynyrd. They might have been a surly bunch of unreconstructed swamp stompers, but they knew a melody when they heard one.
That’s more than I can say for Yorkshire, England’s Bobby Krlic, aka The Haxan Cloak, whose idea of a catchy tune, “Mara,” sounds like one very big predator plodding ponderously across the endless tundra, leaving behind little turdlings of noise for his gullible listeners to step ear-first into.
Or perhaps a more warlike metaphor is called for. “Mara” sounds like air raid siren and air raid all at once, with big whumping detonations of bombs and collapsing buildings and if you know what’s good for you, Mr. Reader, you’ll race to the nearest fallout shelter, because those big, brain-rattling boom-blooms are bombardiering your way, and whatever this is it isn’t music and it isn’t much fun either. Of course there are people who will listen to it, because there are people out there who will listen to anything, including this calamity of a cacophony.
Say hello to Art Brutal, the sound of the Apocalypse and WWIV all rolled into one, and if you do insist upon listening to it I strongly advise you wear a concrete football helmet, to say nothing of steel-toed earplugs and a Kevlar thong. Because The Haxan Cloak has doom on his mind, lots of noise-making machinery at his command, and no more sense than Ted Kaczynski on how to produce anything approaching a melody with it. So prepare for a derangement of all the senses. And be ready to fall ear-first into shit pits of pestiferous noise poop.
You’ll want a pair of wading boots. And a breathing apparatus.
