The first of the posthumous releases from Alan Vega (of Suicide)'s vault, and it's a good 'un.
A look back at the most deliberately frustrating album ever made for popular consumption.
You know how Woody Guthrie has THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS on his guitar? Peter Brötzmann's reeds should have signs that say THIS MACHINE KILLS, PERIOD.
When I'm happy, this record reminds me of what I'm transcending; when I'm not, it reminds me of how to transcend.