You're not supposed to review records where you know the guitar player, much less where the guitar player decides, week-to-week, whether you get to write a $30 show preview. That was the case with the new record from the Fatal Flying Guilloteens, one of whose guitar players (he's since quit the band) is my editor at Philadelphia Weekly. Here's my ethical lapse, which I justify on the following basis.
I like the record a lot.
When I asked for it, it was on the "leftover list" which means that everyone else had passed.
It would take a lot more than $30 a week to buy my approval.
By the way, my colleagues at Dusted liked the record a lot less than I did, preferring the blues-rocking earlier material that FFG released on Estrus and other labels. They are all much smarter and more discerning than I am, so I just throw it out for what it's worth. Here's my review:
"With Quantum Fucking, Fatal Flying Guilloteens makes the leap from Estrus to Frenchkiss Records, obliterating the last trace of blues-based guitar sludge from their sound, and leaning more towards the apocalyptic spazz punk of bands like Brainiac, the Mae Shi and Ex-Models. Guitar riffs take giant, octave-wide leaps, smash headlong into walls of feedback, shake themselves off and jump again. There are brief pauses, just so you remember what silence sounded like, that lead split-second-style into brain-shredding onslaughts of chaos. You’ll find a churning, roiling bass line, answered by fractious, sweat-soaked drumbeats, at the bottom of every track. You could probably dance to this stuff, crudely at least, but you’d end up bruised and bloody."
You can read the rest here:
The label's put up an MP3 of "Reveal the Rats" here: