human boys have a lot in common with ipps for sounding exactly dick like them: they play shows slim-to-no times a year; their tapes, tho' killer, pale extremely seriously in th face of those rare live shows; and they're in th tippity-topmost percentile of insanely great bands to ever aimlessly wander col's streets. th first of th two cassettes here compiled finds h.b. in a similar setup across th tracks, with one of 'em on drums, one of 'em on vocals (predominantly positively SPAT across whatever room they were in), and one' of em (i should mention there's only two of 'em) on grinding, distorted keyboards; th second tape obfuscates this arrangement (if indeed it's employed) with jackhammered samples and an even-more boombox-esque recording quality, but weaving thru th bilge is some of th most aggressively inventive aand necessary musick this side of th suicide, throbbing gristle, & this heat records that it belongs in league with.
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