from New York
You know what that is? That's a tape booklet, bitch. You probably got that right (the name-calling bit aside) if you're at all into noise, for which tape is still the quintessential format, and noise is pretty much the main category in which Vegas Martyrs fits. They haven't got any new releases out or anything, but after the malaise that has been brought upon me by entire days listening to Gnaw Their Tongues (on account of their scary new album) and Death In June (because of the unforgettable show last Saturday of which I will talk about in detail soon), I felt like an extra dose of sickness to be piled upon me. That's when I rediscovered this Dominick Fernow (aka Prurient) project, of which I had a couple of tapes lying around that I had listened a few times and gotten a horrid metal image of, and it was exactly what the doctor didn't order. In fact, if I did go to a musical doctor, he'd probably tell me to stay the hell away from this stuff.
Much like the omnipresent in this blog Gnaw Their Tongues, Vegas Martyrs fuse hideous black metal screeching, subterranean broken riffing and musical corpses full of rough dungeon-like atmospheres. To stretch the doctor theme a little, they'd be the medical equivalent of a self-performed appendectomy, with an old pencil. This Prurient dude isn't exactly known by the beauty of his creations or endorsements, as any of you who have listened to Ash Pool or have ordered anything at all from his dlightfully abject Hospital Productions label will be fully aware of, but Vegas Martyrs seems to be the absolute bottom of the sickness pile. Of all the releases available, in tape or vinyl format, none are advisable as an entry point, but hey, try the ones whose covers I've lazily used to illustrate the article, as there seem to be no proper photos of the band. They're called 'Harlot Widow' and 'Vancouver Missing Women', and if you manage to keep down your lunch during 11 minute abnormalities such as 'Shadows Of Holocaust' and its sudden lurch into hell after the misleadingly quiet beginning, you might have discovered your new favourite self-mutilation soundtrack.