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  • robertsavela

the evolution of obscurity #2






1993 Wisconsin and Johnboy - pistolswing, obscure for a reason uninitiated luddite pack yer bags and head for the mountain all the way up so you can “come down.”

Avant-garde heavy-rock hammer and an anvil acute sonic angles with isosceles minds.

The abstract expressionism of Indie-weird-metal-distortion-arts for the goddesses.

Noise-metal controlled chaos somehow a groove seeps out of there keepin’ it ouroboros-like with the axe pluckings of graceful anarchy.


Ed Hall, Cherubs, Pain Teens, Trance Syndicate, and especially the ol’ Johnboy to help you drink your 40 oz. of Midnight Dragon only a buck twenty-nine back in the day and a pack of Bucks smokes maybe a buck forty-nine, sweet, sweet addicts fall down the stairs into the Unicorn intimate Milwaukee rock palace black and dirty it’s not a trap if you want to be there bloody face from crashing on bike and all limbs draggin’.

The zen of noise rock obscurity passed through those sticky rooms with groove off the charts but let’s settle down and have a Descartes philosophical conversation cause Unsane can wait…? Wait?...What?

Feedback, don’t forget the feedback, and the yelling, the vocals, yelling a lot.

Organic Avant-bong-rock puking too, mostly inside cause that’s where the smoking was, and cement for not staining. Bad influencers those Trance bands and Am Rep bands too, noisy sloppy beer-drunk twelve pack usually and some Ephedrine ten pills to ride – the candle has to go out by itself tonight….life..


Non-repetitive as much as possible the end is a beginning when Johnboy plays it bass heavy watch your driving, head is pounding, your brain bouncing around inside that skull and the coffee and ten pills make it worse. Fuck!

WWZS? What would Zarathustra say? Head for the mountains!


That Midwest sense, that eighth sense saturated with cheese and meat-stuff syphon that shit out a pre-requisite along with a lighter and a bottle opener.

1993 bottles smashing in the daytime street corner doesn’t matter especially with a whip-it lung and a Ben & Jerry’s chocolate embedded in the carpet, some dollar chili too.

Bodily fluids and smashed windshields the usual, the rights of passage pay your dues punk rock.


We have transcended drunk and all those pills, glacier-white drugs from “farm” to throat everything is gonna be alright my friends.

The name of the game is movement and repetition, repetition and movement, slow and fast, fast and slow mindful awake and love your neighbor please.

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