Sorry 'bout the summer hours on here this week. It's been a soundly bad week. The family pooch seems to be on her last legs and we're left with the heartbreaking decision of keeping her medicated and miserable or putting her down. The thirteen year old pup's been Mrs. Delano III's buddy for exactly half her life. The sadness has been palpable at our fortified Chicago compound this week. My multiple lesser grievances were just shit icing on that crap cake.
So, I'll be looking for some laughs this weekend. Or at least some good, non-festival rock music. If you're in Chicago, come out with me the see Warhammer 48k at Heaven Gallery tonight. (Quick description by comparison: think Unwound & Drive Like Jehu & Rein Sanction & Melvins played by kids barely out of high school, shockingly enough.) I'll be up for any other suggestions if anyone's got 'em.
Here's the text of a Warhammer 48k album review on a web site from their native Columbia, MO:
Warhammer 48k: Uber Om
If you know anything about Columbia music, you’re in high anticipation of this record. Brilliantly recorded in Olympia, Wash., by eager-for-work Unwound bassist Vern Rumsey (no shit!), Warhammer 48k lets everything fly on Uber Om and in only six songs.
Pain will shoot through your arm as you pull it out of the wall while listening to the opening track “Get Bodacious.” It’ll probably bleed a bunch, too, but don’t let any sudden blood pressure changes detract from your ability to catch both channels of pummeling guitars.
Warhammer lets loose its stoner grind on “Haunted Abortion” by slowing the pace and unleashing the furious guitars only to thrust itself back into full-speed metal and then fade into a bath of noise.
The band pulls back from the adrenaline rush for “Total Eclipse,” an at-first gentle ballad that’ll whisk listeners into an enlightened (read: stoned) bliss with its nimble bass line and simple string arrangement, all of which is torn to shreds by the song’s final pounding minutes, which are laced with devilish vocals.
“Do You Need Help Walking” is the release’s eight-minute cornerstone with guitars that’ll batter you senseless and the most demonic vocal moments out of this primarily instrumental group of songs.
These six tracks are the best body of work to come out of Columbia since The One Inch Punch dropped Horsehead Nebula last year. Is it any wonder why the guys in Warhammer were called Satanists when they played in Lexington, Ky., at a church? Is it just a coincidence the last track is four minutes and 20 seconds long? Is it surprising that the content of the band’s tour journal, published in a November 2004 issue of Move magazine, had to be heavily censored? Is it reasonable to not love this music? I think not.