Terd LP
Hozac Records, 2010
Whenever I slip into delusions of having musical “taste” that could even remotely brush near a normal person’s musical universe, I simply need to look up a few records that I hold in high regard on Discogs to get slapped with the reality check that I’m often part of a miniscule audience that could fit in the cramped, underground bunker I’m writing this from. That snap back into reality, evidenced by sparsely-attended live gigs or dusty, passed-over used stock marred by multiple markdown price stickers at the local record shops still seems to shock me when, honestly, it shouldn’t. If you’re reading this, you probably know what I mean. You are likely someone who chooses their own sonic adventures, someone who knows what they like and not one who simply likes what they know, or worse, someone trying to jump on whatever musical bandwagon might boost their social standing. Social standings are irrelevant in our universe, friend.
Now that we’ve identified this very very small musical mutant universe we exist in, let’s talk about this messy, chaotic, brilliant ripper from French maniacs Subtle Turnhips. If the atrocious cover art, annoying moniker, dumbass album name, and “toilet wave” tag that’s been assigned to this record doesn’t turn you off immediately, then you might be dwelling in the same extreme margin of society described above. Some time ago, despite strong reservations, I somehow gave this rock-n-roll wreck a spin, likely because anything pumped out by Chicago’s Hozac label is worth a listen, and wow, holy shit terds, I haven’t stopped loving this album since. If your ears are primed to the loose punk shamble frequencies of the esteemed Swell Maps, you may be able to hang with this monster too, as it kinda bubbles up from the same sonic goo that Nikki Sudden and Epic Soundtracks were flopping around in, yet heated it up with the frenetic energy of a tweaker’s wide-eyed psychosis, stabbing your ears and brain glop with jagged moves that push their music way beyond the pale.
Lead track “Sonic Tooth” oscillates between distant low-key strumming an in-your-face blowouts that fall apart, while others like “Bog” and “Seminole Feeling” batter your earholes Flipper style with deceptively simple riffs that attach themselves to memory like a virus. The most avant garde track “Robert Wrong Way Out” amazes in its ability to disassemble and reassemble itself, while the unhinged vocals and snarling riff of “Head On The Wall” or the surprise flute on “Wah Wah Wah” further seep Subtle Turnhips’ sickness into ye olde brainpan. Yet despite these genuinely infectious qualities, this record doesn’t seem to get the love it deserves, judging by the frequent sightings in used LP bins across the USA. If your local shop doesn’t have one, worry not, as you can currently score a clean copy for less than $10 easily on Discogs — even the GOLD edition, limited to a scant 150 copies! Taste is subjective, I guess, but I wouldn’t snooze on this wild album if you see it in the wild. This butt ugly Terd is the shit, Jack.