WEST
Trailduster (Out To Lunch)
Reviewed by DJ Johnson

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This is not to be listened to when depressed because there will be nothing to stop you from jumping. In West's landscape, the sun never quite rises, leaving you to wander the streets in a twilight barely illuminating a world that doesn't look familiar at all. The songs blast in like sonic disturbances, with distorted voices, amphetamine drums, noisy guitar gasping in a sea of reverb and bass that holds it together perfectly. Wellington Taylor's bass lines are menacing, but without them I sense the whole thing would fall apart. He allows his brother, Clairmont (vocals/guitar), and drummer Michael Zimberg to go out on limbs from time to time. The music stays interesting most of the way as a result, only dipping into the community pool once that I could pick up on, as they started to borrow "Smells Like Teen Spirit" before turning it into something much darker. Darker than Nirvana. After a little while with West that's not a surprise. They know how to coax the beauty from the morbid. "Where's your rope," West asks? If you can't take it that bleak, don't. If you can hang on the dark side without getting too choked up about it, this CD has some indescribable voodoo for you.

© 2002 - DJ Johnson