***While some bands are content to drag their knuckles MUSK have theirs completely submerged leaving trenches in their wake as they lumber through the wasteland. Here at Total Punk misanthropy is praised but Musk might have finally unseated ACTION SWINGERS from Total Punk's misanthrope of the month title. Two tracks of swamp sludge skronk and their first release since adding fellow Total Punk JIM VEIL (FNU CLONE) to the fold insuring maximum guitar fuckery. 100% TOTAL PUNK!!!!Limited to 400 copies.
7" $9.25
08/30/2019
MUSK was an idea long before it was a real band. Ringleader CHRIS OWEN and punker scribe MITCH CARDWELL had the notion of starting an Aberrant records-style band—hairy knuckled Oz punk with very few chord changes—called Musk. A few years later in 2011, Chris ran into ROB FLETCHER at the Bottom Of The Hill for feedtime’s first US show. They lamented the total lack of any malevolent garage punk in the Bay Area. Rob brought his ex-bandmate JOHN and this guy BRENDAN from his Cramps cover band aboard for upcoming rehearsals. Other names considered during these early practices were Merle Dirt and well, something we’d prefer not turn up in every review of this album. Despite learning no less than four other bands were currently operating under the Musk moniker, it was decided to use it anyways. The Aberrant punk idea gave way to more of a Beasts Of Bourbon/Panther Burns concept after their first year or so together prior to Musk recording a widely hailed debut LP with CHRIS WOODHOUSE in two days, but Second Skumming was completed in a decadent four. You could say they’ve grown or matured, but YOU’D BE MISTAKEN. Like all great sequels (“The Godfather II”, “Bring It On : All Or Nothing”, “Eddie & The Cruisers II : Eddie Lives”) Musk 2 amplifies and expands on themes that made Musk a favorite amongst misanthrobes & collector skum alike and does so with laser-like focus.
LP $15.50
08/19/2016
MUSK is the new flesh, or at least what’s secreted from the glands located under the skin. Frontman Rob Fletcher is the last guy in the world you’d think had pheromones; they might work on him, but his voice is definitely in the “let’s get the fuck away from this guy” category, with his undeniable ability to growl, spit, shriek and wretch while the band attacks. Drummer Brendan Leonard is a total canbasher, and bass-player John Laux is sublime. He’s not even there at times, but he is, like the whispers of forced air you heard when you were listening to Tical on wet that one time. Like, is that really there? It feels like it’s been there forever. The weird thing about MUSK is that on top of all this malign beauty—what sounds like the six movies John Saxon made in Italy that nobody except the biggest creeps in the world know about, or Beefheartian blues lurch juxtaposed against that lost ’80s pigfuck clangor—guitarist Chris Owen bleeds reverb everywhere, as if his amp had a heart to be stabbed, but it’s just a cone about to rupture. His leads give off a sick, dusty twang, pained as if in their death throes (which is saying something, because the guy looks like the dad from The Family Circus). Each dying twitch and every belligerent throb was captured by engineer Chris Woodhouse (Oh Sees, Fuzz, Ty Segall, Intelligence). Whether working the muggy Southern Gothic angle or treading knee-deep in NYC’s pungent...
LP $16.00
09/30/2014
MP3 $9.90
10/14/2014
FLAC $11.99
10/14/2014