| PUSSY GALORE
- SOUNDS: MEAN FIDDLER REVIEW (PRESS, UK) |
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DATE: 3.DECEMBER.1988 |
LABEL: n/a |
CAT NO.: n/a |
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ARTICLE TEXT: |
"Pussy Galore
London Mean Fiddler
The set lasted 30 seconds.
"Will ya welcome the biggest piece-a-shit-band from Nu York -
Pussy Galore," bawled
the MC, and after half a minute of Munster riff racket, they'd gone. Luckily, the
encore was a bit longer.
With an extra guitar, Pussy Galore are now 24 rusty cheesewire strings slicing up
the kind of scrawny multi-story garage riffs that would have scared even Bryon Gregory's
Cramps.
The
new LP, 'Sugarshit Sharp', sprinkles a sharper, clearer sound, peeling off the
integral filth of Albini's '87 trash classic LP, 'Right Now'. But
all of that speaker-scarring
dirt has been saved up for the live show.
Chief garage mechanic,
Jon Spencer, is still wearing the flesh-coloured lame shirt
featured on the album cover that should long-since have been banished to the laundrette.
He and sulky Juicy Cafritz scream and swear like animated graffiti and, with only Bob Bert's petrol tank rattling to offset the guitars, they set about carving off
the bass and drum flab that lardass US rawk 'n' roll has defied.
After 30 minutes, having annihilated Devo's 'Penetration'
and most of 'Sugarshit''s
second side they leave for good.
Pussy Galore are the gatecrashers at Sonic Youth's garage party. And if Bob Bert's
old band are skipping blithely into Melvyn Bragg's
slobbering embrace as Great Art, Pussy Galore
will have
something to say about it.
And it'll involve a lot of swearing.
Paul Splatch "
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RELATED LINKS: |
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mute.com |
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