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Hair Police 

Obedience Cuts

Wednesday, Sep 1 2004
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Obedience Cuts smacks the nerves like a putrescent animal bleating its death wail, like end-of-the-line Rust Belt steel decay -- rows of oil-stained warehouses steadily collapsing in on themselves. But what feels particularly disturbing -- and breathtaking -- is the palpable sense of detail and patience these noisemakers exert constructing these speaker-shredding, darkly psychedelic horrorscapes. Like pre-pube boys obsessively beating roadkill, Hair Police gnarls every single microscopic sound particle. What results is a quivering pile of guitar feedback, ominously crackling static, stuttering hardcore-derived percussion, and a litany of human gasps and shrieks, producing sharp, psychosomatic unease for this listener. "Full of Guts" works best. Primal drum-thumping and hysterical moans maneuver under a dark veil of blistering fuzz, which would not sound out of place in an Argento flick. BTW -- did you know that every hand you see stabbing some helpless woman in an Argento movie is the director's own? He doesn't trust anybody else to get it just right.

About The Author

Justin F. Farrar

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