LP Edition of 500.
$21
Jaw Guzzi is the ninth LP Melted Men have released since 1995. This is reportedly the year they formed, but as with all Melted Things, there is little hard information to back this up. Like an earlier experimental ”rock” band from Northern California (by way of Louisiana), Melted Men have embraced something akin to Nigel Senada’s Theory of Obscurity. Facts regarding the band’s details are smudgy at best, and that’s the way they like it.
About all I could get out my contact for the group is that they are currently a six piece, with members based in France, Croatia, Holland and America. They seem to have initially been centered in or around Athens, Georgia. And while they play live infrequently, the reviews of shows I’ve managed to dig up seem to be amazingly freaked out and fucked up. Which comes as no surprise.
I’ve not heard all their records, but the ones I have are as bizarre as they are beautiful, and the same is certainly true of Jaw Guzzi. The music is a tough-to-untangle bramble of live racket, pre-taped material and audio fuckery of unknown origins. There are surely comparisons to be made with artists like Orchid Spangiafora and Glands of External Secretion, but Melted Men display more overt musical structure than those collage-oriented maestros.
I have the (perhaps misplaced) notion that Melted Men are able to recreate larger portions of this sonic smut in live performance. Like the aforementioned (or at least aforalluded-to) Residents, Melted Men mix “actual” and pre-recorded material in a way that taps deep into the artistic vein of surrealist/dada-damage that has pumped through the best fringe culture for a century. There are also similarities to certain units of the L.A.F.M.S, as well as the Birmingham Alabama Surrealist coven that birthed the Say-Day-Bew and Trans Museq scenes.
Most of the material here is instrumental, using sly pinches of style ranging from lounge-exotica to Gary Wilson-style porn-funk to noisy ethnic forgeries, the music flows like sweet hot lava, igniting everything it touches into woozy gouts of flame. Jaw Guzzi is a bracing goddamn spin, sure to please anyone who likes buzzing guitars, clonky percussion and cascades of dark weirdness.
In the immortal words of Roald Dahl, “better coffee than this, there isn’t.”
–Byron Coley, 2023
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