The first of the spill / dualpLOVER reissue trilogy of one of the most unique but unheralded bands to ever exist. the damage begins at the mouth documents the bands best unreleased material. A coma and nervous damage gave vocalist Lester Vat a unfair advantage in singing, backed by unusual instrumentation’s by george taskas and glen something or other.
|STREAM OR FREE DOWNLOAD (if you like please donate)|
01 L.N.I. 2:29
02 High Prospects 1:51
03 Touched By The Mouth That's Wrong 1:24
04 Cardboard Cupboard 4:16
05 The Horrible Holes Of Venus 2:35
06 Proboscis Blues 4:12
07 Nest Of Paramecia 2:33
08 Severe Problems 2:00
09 Huhnenblut 1:49
10 Bulbous Thing 2:01
11 Choc-O-Socks 2:37
12 Bastardised Air Conditioner 2:10
13 Mucilage 1:47
14 Lemon Fritz 3:37
15 Interferon (Matty) 3:04
16 Talcum Tornado 3:37
17 Circumnavigation Of The T.V Station 3:35
18 Cauliflower 1:32
19 Disco Dork 0:22
20 Burnt Breath 1:56
21 Your Peculiar Friend 2:33
22 Warm Goat 3:15
23 Gasp 0:33
24 One Egg Beyond 0:36
25 Wheelbarrows Of Earthly Delight 3:04
26 Politeness 3:55
|ALSO AVAILABLE from Volvox|
"No such tent-to-tomb implausibility for sundered, two-strophe constrictors Volvox, who, with their Dual Plover/Spill CD retrospective The Damage Begins at the Mouth, prove themselves to have been the dusky, full-lipped pinpoints of smothered libido we'd all been waiting to piss upon. No fool party members, no youthful prattle in pink letters, no hoarse whispers or long drags. As "The Horrible Holes of Venus" forms its restricted, brilliant palette (a great battle of machete-wielding peasant Salic Franks, a stagnant, weathered gray; low, throaty poised pencils), it becomes quite clear that the nipple always fell too quickly from their mouths. Volvox were a never-failing brawl, perhaps the best band of their time. Certainly, "Huhnenblut" is worth the lives of ten thousand Cobains. With "Interferon (Matty)," Volvox paint four rolls: vendettas, manuscripts and galley-proofs, Parisian prig of gross belly and bad air, "76 photos of the period, unaltered or specially posed," and imperceptible flights, pajama jackets. Their colds, coughs and sore throats are emblematic, an ancient blade; their feet, slithering through Melbourne streets suffused with yellow, kindling drifts, shoot struts and spikes into Balla's unprejudiced eye. What a goddamned great error!" - Tom Smith.
"Someone call me an ambulance... You’ve gotta get up on a pretty odd side of the bird cage to out-weird my music collection. I’d never be so cocky as to say I’ve heard it all, but let’s just say there’s enough aesthetic dents in my cerebrum to scare off even the Maaco people. Hearing "Uncle Meat" at age 12, "The Residents’ Commercial Album" at 17 and "The Wigmaker In Eighteenth Century Williamsburg" last year has forever warped me to the idea of "normal" or "bugged out." I can never tell anymore…witness my decision to "get the party started" amongst a group of visiting friends by breaking out Miles Davis’ "On The Corner" (hint: they came to Chicago to see Weezer).
It’s a funny thing when you live your life under the banner "Great art should be constantly punching me in the face," but after a while, you’re just not that easily fazed. It’s not that I’m jaded, but pots n’ pans and funny voices just don’t freak me out like they once did. Like a roller coaster junkie, looking for faster n’ higher, it’s that temporary sensory derangement that keeps me on the search. And like my first ride on the Magnum XL, my first time hearing Volvox, I realized that this one might tide me for a while.
Lester Vat of Australia was a pretty weird guy to start with, but then he fell through a glass ceiling (there’s a lesson in there somewhere, women of big business!) and suffered a neurological impairment of some sort that sends his body into a variety of spasms, I assume comparable to full-body Tourette’s Syndrome. His singing resembles nothing so much as a member of Parliament (the policy-making body, not the funk band) taking the stand after six too many sherries and a handful of pills, mumbling and slurring in a most regal fashion. Age William Bennett forty years, conk him in the head a few times, stick a mic in his hand, and voila! He wouldn’t be half as astute as Lester Vat, nor would he have Lester’s skill at hyping food products (check this lyric out: "Have you tried Lemon Fritz? It’s lemon, and it’s fritz…LEMON FRITZ!").
The band (one of whom was in an Alternative Tentacles band called Grong Grong at one time) do a bit of everything…abuse turntables, abuse upright basses, abuse cheap synths, abuse children (sorry, couldn’t resist), and in general, punk the fuck out of the "Indeterminacy 1 and 2" blueprint.
"The Damage Begins At the Mouth" is an odds-and-ends collection, the tossaways of a short-lived band that only put out two records in its existence ("Bad Earth" has been rescued from edition-of-50 tape obscurity, also by dual pLOVER. At this time, the other Volvox release, "Pluto Pup and You" may not be so lucky). Naturally, questions like "does it hold together as an album" don’t really apply here, since these songs spring into being as a reaction against coherence. Actually, it’s almost more like a collection of would-be singles, in the sense that it’s a set of 26 concise and unrelated thrills. And yes, I DO think "Bastardised Air Conditioner" could be a hit single. Who wouldn’t find themselves singing along with a catchy chorus like this: "There’s an air conditioner/in my throat/there’s an air conditioner/in my boat/there’s an air conditioner/in my brain."
The "American Idol" of my dreams sees the competition narrowed down to these finalists:
* Lester Vat, Australia
* Tom Smith, USA
* Dave Phillips, Switzerland
* Nate Young, USA
* Adris Hoyos, USA
…just to see the look on Paula Abdul’s face. My ‘80s-related traumas would vanish in one must-see two hour special presentation.
"Damage" is full of many such warped delights. If you’ve ever desired to play Fernando Grillo and Van Halen’s "Hot For Teacher" simultaneously, tough luck…you’ve been beaten to the punch by "Bulbous Thing." In "Chock-o-Socks," an angry mob fuck up a tavern on a recording from 50 years ago. This mutates into a "Blubberknife"-era Severed Heads loop-panic before going completely bug shit (the way of all beautiful things in life).
I could go on and on, but my point is made. This album (and "Bad Earth," which will be reviewed next month) are odd records even by odd records standards, a big booger on the flaming rutabaga of modern avant-goofery. Don’t sing along unless you’re really feeling it." - cmsienkofoundation
"BEGINS IN AN EERIE WAY, VOCAL MUTTERINGS & MOANS REVERB OVER THE BACKDROP OF BASSY VIBRATIONS, TAPPING, STABS ON AN OUT-OF-TUNE ACOUSTIC GUITAR, TAPE-SNIPPETS & A HINT OF WHAT SOUNDS LIKE A VIOLIN, SHREIKING & SCRAPING. DISLOINTED RHYHTMS & SCREACHING MACHINES LAY UNDERNEATH A SLURRED YET PASSIONATELY DELIVERD SPOKEN TRACK, SOUNDS LIKE RANDOM THINGS BEING DROPPED IN THE BACKGROUND OF A LARGE EMPTY HALL. LISTENABLE WHILST STILL BEING COMPLETELY SCATTERED. APPARANTLY HOME-MADE INSTRUMENTS ARE USED ON THIS RECORDING & WHATEVER THEY ARE, THEY SOUND GREAT. THERE’S QUITE A FEW SOUNDS HERE THAT DEFY DESCRIPTION , YOU’D HAVE TO HEAR THIS TO UNDERSTAND. THERE’S A TRACK THAT SOUNDS LIKE SLOWED DOWN BASS NOTES PLAYED SPARSELY, JOINED BY AN EQUALLY SLOWED DOWN VOICE , DRONING, LOATHING & WASHED OUT. AN AWESOME C.D TO SHUT YOUR EYES TO, VISUAL- INDUCING DARK SOUNDSCAPES. JUST WHEN IT’S SAFE TO SHUT YOUR EYES, YOU’LL BE JOLTED OUT OF IT BY ONE OF THE HARSHER BURSTS OF NOIZE/FREQUENCIES & SPEWED OUT ALIEN-VOCAL INSANITY! DOOMY & SPARSE IN PARTS, THEN CLAUSTRAPHOBICLLY CHAOTIC IN OTHERS, IT SEEMS TO MOVE EASILY FROM TORMENTED MENTAL HORROR TO CHILDISH SILLYBUGGERS. IT’S THE RANDOM HUMAN ELEMENT THAT GIVES THIS SALAD OF SONIC VIBRATIONS IT’S CHARM. THE DRUMMING SOUNDS LIKE IT’S DONE ON VARIOUS OBJECTS THROUGHOUT , EG: DRUMS, BINS, BOXES & UM, OTHER STUFF!! ALSO HAS SOME TWISTED PASSAGES OF ANALOG KEYBOARD SQUELCHES JAMMING WITH WHAT SOUNDS LIKE AN ACCORDIAN BEING PLATED UNDER WATER! FURTHER INTO THE DISC SEE’S SOME CHOKING GOING ON , VIOLENT CHOKING WHILST SOMEONE CASUALLY FARTS OUT BOTTOM –END THROBS OVER HI-HAT BRUSHES. CONSTANT FUCKED UP POETICS BY VOCALIST LESTER VAT (WHO HAS PERFORMED AT WHAT IS MUSIC? ) GIVES THIS ALBUM IT’S DEMENTED EDGE. LOTS OF DELAY , ECHOES, RADIO STATIC & ALMOST ANIMAL SOUNDING HORNS SPRINKLED THROUGHOUT MAKES THIS A VERY BIZARE LISTENING EXPERIENCE. RECORDED ENTIRELY ON 4-TRACK, THE 26 TRACKS HERE WERE CREATED BETWEEN 1993-1995 & IT CAPTURES A GREAT SOUND DESPITE IT’S LIMITATIONS. ALTHOUGH MAYBE NOT SO EASY LISTENING FOR SOME, DEFINATELY WORTH CHECKING IF YOU THINK YOU’D LIKE TO HEAR SOMETHING “DIFFERENT” & “CHALLENGING”. THIS IS A DOCUMENT OF AUSTRALIAN MUSIC GOING ON UNNOTICED BY THE MAINSTREAM , ONCE AGAIN BROUGHT TO US BY SYDNEY’S BEST ORIGINAL LABEL, DUAL PLOVER, ALONG WITH MELBOURNE’S SPILL RECORDS. AT 63 MINUTES LONG & COMING IN A CARDBOARD/VELCRO POCKET WITH CLASSY SUEDE-LIKE INNER, THE $15 PRICE TAG IS A BARGAIN!" - REVIEWED BY BUMSCUZZ