The Clutters
T&C
Chicken Ranch Records-2005
By Christopher Duda
(SugarBuzz Toronto)
Band Photo By Joshua Black Wilkins
Collecting could be perceived by some as an obsessive-compulsive neurotic behaviour. My obsession has my walls stacked with tasty vinyl lp’s, cassettes, 8 tracks, cd’s, old toys, buttons, posters and almost anything else related to music. I got bit badly as a kid and I have never been able to find a cure for the rock and roll flu (mind you I don’t want to be cured you fucking overpaid quacks!).
What may be considered garbage to some is a treasure to me. I revel in my chaotic clutter (key word here folks-yes this word will tie it all in to this masterpiece-yeah right-fuck you).
I become emotionally attached to inanimate objects the minute they enter into my chapped Canadian winter hands. Do these objects hold any importance in the bigger scheme of my existence or anyone’s for that matter?
Back to the clutter (that word again -Einstein!)
To the naked eye, it might be deduced that haphazard piles of junk situated throughout the room hold no system or importance. Wrong! No Dewey Decimal systems for this lad. I like my own organizational skills and if you don’t understand it too bad! It is my own selfish ploy to confuse and to convey confusion. I love organized chaos and the world should embrace it. Within in each dusty pile lies treasures waiting to be discovered caressed, fondled, rubbed, fingered, licked, and gently aurally pleasured (Wot a clever lad-Wot a fuckin’ rotter!)
Guess what, this is where I review the CD! Loud cheers, followed by an angry mob pissed at the fact that I spend more time writing a story then I do reviewing the CD. You try writing the same thing 5,00000 times. They rocked. Buy their CD. I have good taste in music. That is how I should start every review.
The Clutters exist in one of those piles on my floor. I had misplaced it in my organized chaos but recently was blown straight across the room at their brilliance. Within this CD is a treasure trove of many a discovery (arrr matey). Hey, any of you Canadians remember Mr.DressUp? He had a trunk he called the tickle trunk. I heard that Lucky (Editor of Sugarbuzz and general bodyguard for mouthy fucks like me) might have one of those as well. Hey Lucky whip out your tickle trunk. Treasure Trove-Tickle Trunk. Makes sense to me. Huh?
The Clutters penetrated my wax filled ear canals and intravenously fed me Farfisa deep within my bluest veins (yeah I am royalty but really don’t like to brag about it). Breaking backbone backbeat filled in with creepin’ hell-bent garage riff raff. Wrap your noggin’ around The Sonics blowin’acrid, cyanide based bubbles into the face of early rock and roll based punk rock.
Essential listening. Don’t be hip. Don’t follow trends. Like what you hear. Buy The Clutters.
http://www.myspace.com/theclutters
http://www.chickenranchrecords.com/