Critic's Notebook

Wolf Eyes

"My," said Little Front Row Kid to the Michigan trio onstage getting ready to play, "what big amplifiers you have." "The better to cause your frontal lobe to rupture and make blood, bone, and gray matter ooze painfully out of your ears with, my child," said John Olson. "My, what...
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“My,” said Little Front Row Kid to the Michigan trio onstage getting ready to play, “what big amplifiers you have.”

“The better to cause your frontal lobe to rupture and make blood, bone, and gray matter ooze painfully out of your ears with, my child,” said John Olson.

“My, what big stacks of electronic gadgets and tape machines and weird boxes with knobs you have next to your guitars,” said Little Front Row Kid.

“The better to mutate our incredibly abrasive, nearly structureless noise rock into terrifying, jaw-dropping, Metal Machine Music-dwarfing, postal-worker-rampage-soundtracking, end-of-the-world-summoning, room-clearing sonic destruction with, my child,” said Aaron Dilloway.

“My, what big, scary mouths you have,” said Little Front Row Kid.

“The better to go like this with,” said Nate Young. “Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiggghhrrrrgghhhhhhhgghhhlllllllggghhh!!!!!!!!!

And with that primal, blood-curdling shriek, Wolf Eyes began to play, and Little Front Row Kid was swallowed whole.

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