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BACK IN PRINT!!! Received an 8.2 rating from Pitchfork.
This 32-song bomb was dropped on a highly suspect America back in the early winter of 1997. It was a celebration of—and no tombstone upon—the then-major label act known as ROYAL TRUX, RTX and/or “these guys suck,” depending on whom you were reading. The songs were collected from along the various ways they’d passed by from 1988 to around the time they were signed to Virgin in 1994. The title really says it all, without delivering strictly on the promise; rather than divide the album into sections dedicated to each of the above, the singles, live and unreleased tracks were scrambled in unchronologic / anthropomorphic / anti-idiomatic fashion to represent a living, breathing entity built of contradictions, rhythm, gleeful exploitation of limitations and clichés, the short con (and when you finally notice, they’d slip into the long one) and above all, total commitment. This was a band to which the word “definition” had no meaning, other than as the punch-line to a variety of jokes that we won’t bore you with right now. You may never understand unless you sit in a crouch for three days, on the balls of your feet with the knees pointing out like arrows before you. And then maybe you’ll know how it feels. Some people in this life have no choice, they’ve been Indians since the day they were born. Others take it upon themselves. This was Royal Trux. And when Maker’s Day finally comes—and trust us, you too will stand naked—when we humans are finally judged on intention—Royal Trux will roll in to heaven heavy with it, 100% pure and solid.