Trux Reverb makes no sense at all. Why is it here? Why did Disco Doom think this was acceptable to release? What could the appeal of listening to an extremely distorted four minutes of repetitive guitar wankery possibly be? How in the world are we to make sense of “Sands Inn”, a quiet two-and-a-half minute pop song, showing up after four tracks of “LOOK WHAT MY DISTORTION PEDAL CAN DO” and before one 15-minute jaunt into slowcore patience testing? Trux Reverb is the sort of question-fueled oddball release that a band puts out when it feels like throwing a curveball at its established audience. There’s no driving aesthetic here, there’s no moral, there’s no point. It’s as if this band is just willfully putting whatever it records that happens to be interesting in the minds of its members out on a CD. Disco Doom hasn’t earned this yet, and even if they had, it would still sound like a giant musical facepalm. The experimentation is too structured to be atonal, too random to be calculated, or too quick to make any sort of lasting impression, while the one brief nod to the band’s past is so transient and out of place as to barely exist. It doesn’t even sound like they’re trying.
// Sound Affects
"The man whose songs were recorded by Johnny Cash, Alan Jackson, Ricky Skaggs, David Allan Coe, The Highwaymen, and countless others succumbs to time’s cruel cue that the only token of permanence we have to offer are the effects of shared moments and memories.READ the article