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The Fugue:
Four Corner Races (single)
The Fugue is fucked up. Theres just something sleazy and raunchy about them thats wonderfully charming. From the inscription everybody taste my taint on the inner ring of the 7 to the snippets of interesting lyrics you can catch here and there, they make for an exciting ride. From the collectors department there was an initial pressing of 500 clear yellow pieces of wax, of which I somehow lucked out on and which I think some might still be available. Here we have three tracks bursting with energy and a crashing, sometimes danceable mathiness to them. Side A carries the title song Four Cornered Races, which is an Arab on Radar-like squall with angular, agitated guitars and somewhat of a hellbent dance beat. Flip to Side B and we find Muscle, a thirty second short burst of loud guitars and shouting and Even in the Classical Age of Street Fighting, which is a build and release semi-melodic wandering. This 7 comes across more like an experiment in sound architecture than a product of conventional musicians. Mid-to-Late 90s Dischord comes to mind when trying to place the sound. Theyve definitely found their niche in shaky post-punk. How the hell they came up with the name we can only wonder, but it is worth the buy. Definitely.
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