De beschrijving van
Julian Cope over de ervaring van het luisteren naar monster magnet's album 'Tab...25' :
"It’s Friday night in some horrifyingly backward and crime infested small American city, Tampa, Florida, Lincoln, Nebraska, or, maybe Flint, Michigan. You and you’re older cousin have gone to see Black Sabbath at the local football stadium/sports complex. During the encore, you reach inside your grimy jean jacket pocket to take a swig of cheap whiskey from a flask, but, instead, you accidentally grab the vial of liquid acid you were going to sell outside the show, and unwittingly drink down it’s entire contents in one doomed gulp. For the rest of the night, one single riff plays over and over in your head, speeding up and slowing down while still droning on and on, as your cousin drives you around the deserted urban wasteland, telling you stories of speed freaks, junkies, and acid heads who never came back, and giving you destructive advice just to freak you out, like “why don’t you take MORE”, and “Get behind the wheel of this car, and drive it straight into a brick wall”, presumably while flashing the interior lights on and off and grinning maniacally from beneath his thin, greasy, prepubescent moustache. Just when you think your brain is about to crawl straight out of your eye sockets, he pulls up to an after hours party, where Motorhead blasts out of two enormous and shredded speakers, and Sabbath fans, in various states of intoxication, mill around telling stories of recent incarcerations while throwing knives at a crucifix made entirely of engine parts. Somehow, you make it home, where, under your serpent infested sheets, you decide that “Everything is crap, and everyone’s a creep” before the sunlight shines through your window, telling you everything, though not exactly OK, is at least not crap."
Rest van de recensie
hier .
En I agree...25