Mordecai

Seeds From The Furthest Vine

Petty Bunco

LP $29.00

07/12/2024 657628447832

PB 018

MP3 $7.99

07/12/2024 657628447832

PB 018

FLAC $8.99

07/12/2024 657628447832

PB 018

"Seeds from the Furthest Vine is the 6th (!!!!) proper LP from our gang & any astute listener will hear the guys taking their glorious din into new territories of clattering freedom. Organ and flute appear sporadically to offer new textures and it only gets wilder the further into the record you get, from a song that sounds like the gnarliest Messthetics-era troglodyte throb to long form clanging noisy storytelling 'down in the alley'. And like the previous five albums, the staunchly DIY post-Lou midwestern rock of Mike Rep and Jim Shepard permeates throughout this new one in all its casual glory."

"Containing two brothers and a friend, Mordecai formed in the big sky land of Montana a number of years ago. These days however they're a more jet setting proposition, with members spread between Oregon, Massachusetts, and Taiwan. Their music contains languid vocals, guitars that alternate lazy strumming and berserker scrabblings, a constantly sturdy bass keeping things in check, and percussion that eschews loud bashing for an assortment of minimal thwackings and shakings. Their songs sometimes end abruptly and rarely have clear choruses or more than one part yet seem complete in their self-sufficiency."

"If Mordecai: The Rock Band was a recipe for Mordecai: The Pie the shopping list would seem fairly regular. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums, all easily obtainable and non-threatening to use. They play discernable rock songs so no unfamiliar techniques to master. No matter the precise filling you've eaten some variation many, many times, possibly even given a shot to making your own to adequate effect. So this should be simple enough. But something's gone askew and the perfectly constructed crust enrobing the delectable innards has resulted in a confusing mass of misshapen glop. Still tastes good though. Nay, tastes great to those who chew the pan when the pie is gone."

—Max Milgram