Asked if he minded discussing some of the gory details of his career and his new autobiography, The Hard Stuff: Dope, Crime, the MC5, and My Life of Impossibilities, such as a long and tumultuous struggle with addiction, snafus with the law, and the ups and downs (mostly ups) of getting sober, Wayne Kramer laughed off the question as if it was absurd.
Their new album Leg is an irreverent kaleidoscope of noise rock, post-hardcore, musique concrete, spoken word, chamber music, and general auditory mayhem. The thing about this record is how its tone can change on the head of a dime, despite the songwriting heavily using repetition and slow development of ideas.
After a flurry of exceptional introductory releases comes Salt, the band’s meticulous full length debut, an album with enough jaw-dropping moments you might as well just leave your damn mouth open. Blending together fractured shards of garage punk, krautrock, post-hardcore, and experimental no-wave, Blessed’s sound is laser-beam focused and expanded further in every direction on their first attempt at album length exploration.
The Mall, The Country and The Dirt, The Dancing are transcendent, alive, breathing. The double EP swells in ambient solemnity and contracts in melodic elegance, as pieces of coherent pop brilliance are encased between swirling panoramic experiments, highlighting Amos’ acute sense of sequencing and pacing.
