![[shiny grey monotone]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipd6KiHDAbQRs8CrRmxCtqbg5yoSbtwAR2w4FDFERXJfP-Wgf3Cz4jKCnaAK371bePkk6lKYG-xjoKhUdF7yW1blhH6YjV-KoEofpS4GD9XwZyDKQbxxbHb3Q5NFTmvea6ecFdMdVZWqoj/s854-r/1.jpg)
Label: Tortuga
Year: 2000
The bastard, and less literate, backwoods cousin of Clutch. Or the reincarnation of Black Oak Arkansas as funneled through the distortion blanket of Milligram. Not sure.
Either way, its a thud rock tea party that insists that you stay until the very end...or you pass out. They ply the same trade as Clutch, but get darker and weirder a lot faster. What seems like simple burnout riffing, is actually a paranoid kaleidoscope of bad vibes and declarations of independence. Total beard boogie.
DL
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