This one is a bit older, but goddamn if it’s not the perfect soundtrack to a swampy-ass summer. Public Housing sees the Wasteland Jazz fellas (let’s take a minute to remember how goddamn great Wasteland Jazz Unit was?/is? Okay…) soaking their horns in mud, grinding guitars, and howling with a constant scowl, lighting fires into a cacaphonous death blues masquerade. I can’t get enough of this. “Modern Breathing” is dripping with sweat, every note falling out of their guitars like a dying, trash-filled meteorite. Scuzz gets cranked up to infinity and the funereal plod forward will only lead to the cliff’s edge.
Noise takes over on “Caskets,” bringing the dead back to life and turning a shithole into an utter hellscape. The constant screech of electronics and catatonic guitar buzz will make you question your life and look for the nearest dive bar to drown everyone’s sorrows in with the operative word being drown. I’m reminded of the impeccable and grossly-underrated Irving Klaw Trio at times, especially when the wailing gets out of hand like on closer, “Stay Awake.” And odd song title for sure since there’s no fucking way anyone is getting sleep with this glorious racket filling their earholes. Get the fuck in, son. This summer was made for sweatin’.