Weedeater CD reviewed by Luc Rodgers
Dec 4, 2007, 13:10
WEEDEATER God Luck and Good Speed CD
Stoner metal this isn't. Why? Because they said so. This, dear readers, is “weed metal,” a genre encompassing only Weedeater—therefore, they are the lone purveyors, archivists, and working band in this genre to this day. But the similarities to stoner metal are so close that, well, yes, they're identical. Bassist/vocalist Dave “Dixie” Collins began his hazy career in stoner gods Buzzov*n and later met up with drummer Keith Kirkum and guitarist Dave Sheperd to present the world an ultimate violent live show that is Weedeater. Thankfully they left it to the skinny, nimble fingers of Steve Albini to put it to tape.
With a name like Weedeater one knows exactly what is coming with the CD in the tray. Heavy as an anvil and slow as a stoned driver, God Luck and Good Speed delivers on every front but also adds a little juice to wet the cotton mouth and whet the bottomless appetite. The opening title track introduces the listener to a palatable ferocity and warmth as if huddled around the campfire with guitars, whiskey, and you-know-what. All of a sudden “Dixie,” whom you're seated next to, belts out a horrific demon scream like no other. Squirrels drop from the trees, once-invisible bugs and creatures of all sorts scurry from underneath nearby leaves to safety in the darkness, and the surrounding, once-calm faces become agape with abject horror and surprise and, finally, delight. One riff leads into another and lone bodies become one thrusting, dangerous mass of vomit and destruction. As “Wizard Fight” begins the blood is boiling and the flames are licking the hair of banging heads. Simultaneous guitar/bass licks clench the fists and it is here and now that all want to, and will, remain for, hopefully, the entirety of the session.
As “Alone” rings through the night, the faces return to awe and a calm settles over the entire scene. With a deep, close-mic baritone, “Dixie” proclaims that, “You don't know me/Leave me alone.” All camaraderie is destroyed and everyone is left to ponder the bond that, once seemingly apparent, is now gone. The nihilism permeates the souls, slows the hearts, and frowns the mind while listening and coming to grips with mortality. “C'mon, guys. Honesty and philosophy walk the same road, “ and with a nudge he leads into “20 Dollar Peanut” and everything reconnects; the madness and fury, a hoop and holler, and guitar necks raised in an affirmation of true metal brotherhood (see Manowar's “Brothers of Metal” from 1996's Louder Than Hell on Geffen Records). Hours pass with the moon and stars and satiated explains the mood of everyone involved. Thundering through “Dirt Merchant,” “Gimme Back My Bullets,” and “Weedmonkey” has left the party sluggish and tired, ready for the sleeping bag. To brighten the mood, “Dixie” pulls out a piano and ditties through “Willow,” his final offering for the night. Owls join in, as do the crickets, sages, and wolves, and a nightcap chorus commences with a smile and a communal pat on the back as all lie down to rest.
The approachable maelstrom that is Weedeater explains Southern Lord's decision to release something not attuned to their catalog, compromised mostly of black, avant-garde, and downright frightening releases. In this band they saw something singular and promising and thought it appropriate to give it an international release. “Listen world, if you have the ears, to Weedeater and all that encompasses it.” Take it in, purge, repeat. Through the smoke and bloodshot eyes, Weedeater have made their presence known and it is clear why they are the apex of damaging, relaxing sludge/doom/stoner/weed metal. [Southern Lord]
- Luc Rodgers
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