Boredoms CD reissues reviewed by Steve Miller

Music Reviews
Boredoms CD reissues reviewed by Steve Miller
Aug 16, 2007, 01:58

Boredoms - Super Roots, Vol. 1

BOREDOMS Super Roots Vols. 1, 3, 5, 6, 7 and 8 reissue CDs

I'm sitting here in room 417 at the Marriott Solana in Westlake, Texas, listening to one more of these reissues. The night air is a hot, hot, hot, 87 degrees, and this music continues to twist its way into my head. I could be listening to Willie Nelson, Butthole Surfers, Roky Erickson, Culturecide, Roy Orbison or any of the other legends that this state has produced, but that tradition is one of the reasons great bands like the Boredoms exist—to challenge. Right now I'm on Super Roots 3, a rockist drum thing that I can't seem to stop. Nothing from the hotel trash can full of ice can cool it out, either.

I am a rockhead and proud to be one. I like big guitars or scattershot drums that bear no EQ, usually fronting a voice that is an instrument with words that deem the world unfit. This feels good to me. And in a very indirect way, the Boredoms have always spoken to that, just as Funkadelic did, like Sun Ra can, and just as Nick Cave and his confederates do. Just as the Germs and Dez-era Black Flag did.

In tribute to its two decades of music, Boredoms are foisting six prime slabs at us. And they sound as fresh as the day I slapped the first on my turntable in 1993. Actually, I hated it as much as I hated the 39-minute Zen Guerilla CD, which was one long track broken into several songs. But both were ripe then and over the years gained momentum and the sounds gained favor.

I'm worn out after listening to these CDs, and love them at the same time. Five minute blats of noise, 32-minute soundscapes punctured by frenzy. You know the drill. Super Roots 7 is my latest favorite, moving from a Tuxedo Moon groove to a 21-minute driver that loops and loops and loops.

Just in case after looking at the numbers at the top here: Super Roots 2 is a rare 3" CD that isn't out for reasons unknown, and Super Roots 4 does not exist. The number 4 is linked to the sometimes-fatal blowfish in Japan, and is therefore, forbidden. Check it—there is no #4 train in the Tokyo subway system.

Boredoms sealed a legacy by never being predictable and deftly moving through the landscape of punk-noise-expero-trance. The band, a rotating cast of players and hangers on, were given a wide berth when it came to lauds—more people read shit into their music than really got into it. “Noise experimentalists” is one moniker, which demeans the whole idea and reduces it to some kind of artsy shit that should be shunned. They are not artists, although I'm sure crits and the like would prefer to cast them as such. It was a collective of folks banging away and making a din that didn't have to make sense or be taken too seriously. Kinda like the magic some folks from this Lone Star state have conjured over the years.

A box set would have set nice here rather than this one-by-one, but no matter. On a steamy Texas night, Boredoms make the world a hotter place. [Vice]


Filed Under: MusicMusic Reviews

RSSComments (0)

Trackback URL

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.