Comets On Fire

Comets On Fire

S/t

Comets on Fire

*** NEWLY REMASTERED VERSION*** The first full-length release by psycho-psych freaks Comets Of Fire delivers dark and damaged acid rock served in a crude and blown-out speedball of Blue Cheer, High Rise, James Williamson and a shit-faced-drunk Roxy-era Eno. Methamphetamine and Schnapps-drenched lullabies take it straight into the sonic shitstorm, shifting from 4/4 power rock to imploding free form. Echoplex-treated tales tell of drug-crazed space travelers, graverobbers in love and cosmic cannibals. The album was recorded on 4-track with the levels in the bloody red in a basement and garage in Santa Cruz, California. Tinkering, mixing and sound manipulation with help from Tim Green (Fucking Champs, Nation of Ulysses).

Comets On Fire

S/t

Alternative Tentacles

First full-length release by psycho-psyche freaks COMETS ON FIRE. COMETS deliver dark and damaged acid rock served in a crude and blown out speedball of BLUE CHEER, HIGH RISE, JAMES WILLIAMSON and a shit-faced-drunk Roxy-era Eno. Methamphetamine and Schnapps-drenched lullabies take it straight into the sonic shit storm, shifting from 4/4 power rock to imploding free form. Echoplex treated tales of drug-crazed space travelers, graverobbers in love and cosmic cannibals. Recorded by COMETS ON FIRE onto 4-track with the levels in the bloody red in a basement and garage in Santa Cruz, California. Tinkering, mixing and sound manipulation with help from Tim Green (FUCKING CHAMPS, NATION OF ULYSSES).

Comets On Fire

Field Recordings From The Sun

Ba Da Bing!

Newly remastered and back in print on vinyl! Field Recordings From the Sun is the second album from West Coast skull-peelers and daisy-wilting psychedelic stormtroopers Comets On Fire. Joined by an armada of friends and hangers-on—including Tim Green of the Fucking Champs (who also produced) and Ben Chasny of Six Organs of Admittance (soon to be a permanent member)—the band erects towering tombs of natural ethereal beauty and pure sonic destruction set above a cosmic freight train of unhinged riffs and jagged grooves. And their drummer is more than happy to perform naked, you don’t even have to ask.“Field Recordings From the Sun demonstrates that melted guitars can sound just as good as the real thing. Maybe better, for that matter. This is old school being funneled into the future, garage rock unearthed from the tomb and infused with solar energy. These four Bay Area fellers grafted echoplex and oscillators onto a hard rock trio from hell and discovered that the results are a stoned avant-rocker’s wet dream.“This album’s thirty-six minutes are quality over quantity, just the way I like it…. 2002’s proving to be the year of fucking great outer-space rock, and aren’t we all lucky for it?” —Mason Jones, Dusted