Noise annoys, y’know – just ask my recently acquired
upstairs neighbours. Any time my lounge stereo breaches the ‘wasp
fart’ barrier – better known to you and I as a pitiful
level of noise used only by frail grannies when The Archers
is on – the stamping begins. Clump clump clump. To
add insult to injury, I can then detect some horrible AOR toss seeping
through the floorboards; I’m sure it was the Godforsaken Thrills
a while back. It drives me crazy. It’s time for action. It’s
time for some really horrible noise.
Since I don’t have the BBC Sound Department’s Roadworks
and Other Street-Level Noises compilation, this’ll have
to do. Hey Colossus may have a vaguely tongue-in-cheek
name (indeed, consult their members over its origins and a different
answer will come from each), but it fits: this is colossal stuff.
‘Ghost Ship’ fills their side of this split,
a solitary six-minute (near enough) blast of bowel-crushing, doom-laden
metal. It should get them upstairs stamping all right.
The Phil Collins 3 are about as bonkers as their
name implies; thus, it suits just as well. ‘Fartbeat’
is a brief dalliance with Mr Bungle-like nonsense, while the following
‘Greenfly Ate My Dog’ yammers and spits like
the mentalist from the Police Academy series (forever remembered
by this writer as the unfortunate guy fired by Bill Murray in Scrooged,
only to re-emerge later in the film with a shotgun - "Hello
Wabbit!"), with a musical accompaniment straight out of Mike
Patton’s cheesy dreams. A third song, ‘Jeff’s
Grapes’, finishes their side off nicely.
Did I say ‘nicely’? I meant horribly. It’s all
ergh and RAAAAR and grrrummmppph and
AAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE and anything else that’ll
rattle their socks.
Come into my house and make like you own the place? Go move to
Bournemouth to die with the other golden oldies.