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Green Milk
from the Planet Orange: City Calls Revolution
Whats the mental change that occurs sending aging grindcore masters to the otherworldly sweet solace found in the psych-prog movement? Well, I dont have the answer to this, but I can make one up. After flogging the scene with another grindcore outfit in Nippon, Japan (No Rest for the Dead) until it broke down and swallowed itself whole, members A and Dead K, both experimenting within other musical realms, hoisted themselves back onto the music scene, gorged themselves on a handful of psychedelic drugs and perhaps some not-so-psychedelic pills to see what kind of journey theyd end up on. Well, folks, they became reincarnate, looked inward and found themselves as Green Milk from the Planet Orange interesting place to find yourself, eh? They threw a couple more kids into the mix and began walking. Now, I had a couple of roommates who turned me onto the British and American prog-rock movement of the 70s not too far back. I would like to thank them right now, because if it werent for them, I would be completely lost trying to figure out this album. Hell, I even found myself at a Yes show at Red Rocks sometime a couple summers ago. As much as these guys might have kept from their old grind days, they meld it together, seamlessly and mighty craftily with old experiments dating back to King Crimson, Can, Genesis and yes, even our favorites, Yes. This creates an interesting tension in the music, melding these old giants to a newer even more jagged form, thus exposing some interesting similarities with other neo-whatever compatriots like The Refused. Upon revvin up the album, were greeted by a four minute intro, not unlike Pink Floyd with spacey, quiet instrument tooling kind of an introspective send off. After those meandering few minutes, a flag bearing pulse from the guitar and drums builds; it builds into a repeated bastardized, heavy metal Ennio Morricone line. (Its a good line I dont use bastardized negatively.) The guitar washes around underneath seas of pedals and space, emerging quite often rearing ugly, jagged, fuzzed metallic fangs, enough to send shivers through your bones. There are enough string scratches and start and stop squealing to offset the clean, calm, reverbed wanderings. The vocals move from spoken word to squealed, to megaphone-backed, to fuzzed, to chanted, to squealed again on through preached and even briefly beautifully sung. Were taken on a moody, schizophrenic journey as these boys look to find themselves. City Calls Revolution, a fine, fitting album name in itself moves organically through only four tracks and clocks in at about 73 minutes; the last track itself is almost 40 minutes. Expect these guys to just keep descending deeper and deeper, finding that plane these musicians in Japan are discovering. If these guys keep going, maybe theyll find the Acid Mothers Temple somewhere out there. Throw this on, get lost, and enjoy; its relaxing in that tension and release kind of way. This is no waste of time.
Green Milk from the Planet Orange Official Website Check Amazon, Insound and CD Universe to purchase this album. About LOTD Contact/Staff Advertise Home All content LEFT OFF THE DIAL 2001-2005. All rights reserved. |
