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Hackman: Enterprises
27/04/09 || Kampfar
Gene Hackman is a well known guy, famous even, but this Hackman I’m about to ejaculate a fair bit of praise over isn’t known at all. After this review, however, it’ll be Russian caviar, top notch sluts and ditto cocaine on all 3 until the day they die of cardiac arrest. Oh well, the 3 dudes having an appointment with heart-failure because of my excellent writings are American – Allston, Massachusetts, being their exact location. I don’t know about you, derail ahead, but to me it sounds like a place full of Indians that Massachusetts state; one teeming with proper Americans and totem-poles, a place I’d like to visit. Unsurprisingly, Wikipedia told me otherwise. I guess, as in bet, that them Native American ventured to the happy hunting grounds along with ze buffalos. Poor bastards. Any-which-fucking-way, piece of crap white-thrash, greasy burritos-degos, ching-chong gooks and a couple gangbanging niggaz is what you’ll encounter if paying said location a visit. Bring a bomb if so happens.
I’m a scizoid into paranoid behavior, one with like 9 personalities, and the one that wrote the intro you just read bears the name Sitting Bull Hulk Hitler. Only thing is, that part of me knows shit about music – other than tribal stuff, of course. But “Enterprises” happen to have none of that, no holla-bolla here, which is why I have to pop some strong pills and ram my head into a concrete wall, as in breaking it, before continuing my scribblings.
A city in ruins later
Hello and welcome, Kampfar speaking, the very ambassador of A.I.D.S. and bona-fide bullshit reviews has tuned in to tell all 4 readers why he loves Hackman, this whilst jacking off and pretending that you actually give a fuck. Give me a hug and I’ll puncture both your eyes in sync with ripping out your tongue. In other words: hardy har, retard, go fuck a St. Bernard, I namely have some sense to do.
Ehm, if you are one of those bastard into sludge and stoner, there’s a fat chance you’ll end up digging Hackman. Here’s why: they got brains, balls, grit, power, oohmp, and other things too, but vocals aren’t one of them. Almost. Yep, this is more or less an instrumentally-ill act, a couple of sneered lines here and there, and then some less, all you get to hear uttered through a throat on this here thing called “Enterprises”. And the same rings true for their debut, “The new normal”, as well. Still, they have enough of them words to get their message through, and the message is: fucking fuck it all, life is bullshit, but grooving like a motherfucker ain’t.
I’m not finished talking about groove yet, fuck pet. Soon, but not yet. God damn it, my rhyming skills are dubious, but the gritty groove ensured by the bass dude in Hackman ain’t so in the least. Yes, I very well know that the bottom heavy, excellent as in tailor-made production deserves much of the honor, let’s say 50%, but fuck me in the mouth with a boyscout if mentioned basser doesn’t take advantage of the murky delight at hand. I approve and applaud.
Okidoki, time to elaborate on the remaining cunts.
Second of all is the guitarist, which is also very able, and again, the production helps him sound great. We already knew that a fuzzy buzz with a hint of dirt goes very well with fine riffing, but getting it confirmed ain’t no bad thing.
Third of all is Mr. Drummer, a hard hitter for sure. Or rather, he is one when the music requires so, my point being that many a drummer is a limp-wristed twat utterly unable to hammer the point through at all.
I just noticed, whilst doing research for the info bit, that one of the dudes, namely Jase, plays trumpet. Fuck if I have noticed, but what I have noticed is that this band is far away, like Pluto to the Sun, from being a one-trick-pony. Woha, exaggeration committed, but “Enterprises” is indeed a varied affair. And focused, too.
If you are up for a very fine mix of stoner and sludge, 92% or so instrumental, steal this one pronto.
8,5 out of 10.
- Information
- Released: 2008
- Label: Small Stone Records
- Website: www.myspace.com/hackmanriffs
- Band
- Darryl Shepard: guitar, vocals
- Jase: bass, trumpet, vocals
- Owen: drums
- Tracklist
- 01. Panama
- 02. Monoceros
- 03. March into victory
- 04. End of men
- 05. Number eight, no bullet
- 06. Bludge
- 07. Tragedian
- 08. Not anymore and never again
- 09. C’est la mort
- 10. War gong
