THE PLOT TO BLOW UP THE EIFFEL TOWER: Dissertation, Honey
I love when albums you had long forgotten about spring up on you, kick you in the arse (not to mention face, stomach and GONADS) and remind you why you fell in love with them in the first place. Oh ‘Dissertation, Honey’, with your glorious Gravity Records-esque spastic outbursts, Nations of Ulysses-like quasi political posturing, smoky jazz skronk and irrepressible swagger, you are indeed one hell of a gem! Listening to you is like being jostled by an attractive, bookish-looking punk girl as free jazz is being wafted with reckless abandon through thick clouds of dank bar smoke…
And let’s not forget them spoken word samples! GODDAMN!
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