Botch - We Are the Romans
Hydra Head Records, 1999
A while back, I was walking along a beach. It was late evening, and the sun was setting, casting a violet shade on the dusky sky. The sights and smells were amazing, the salty sea-air, the seagulls calling out their nonsense message to any creature that could hear them.
But then…
Then I felt the stinging. Not just one sting, thousands of stings. Working their way up… working… Oh God. It was fire ants! And they were anally raping me! Thousands of fire ants had entered my anus and were biting away, spraying their acid-venom-spit into my freshly chewed-on colon! AND THEY WERE DOING IT IN 6/8 TIME.
But after a split second, I realized something. I loved it. I had never felt pleasure like this in my life, sexual or otherwise. This didn’t even come close to the time that Susie from my D&D group gave me sloppy head in her downstairs bathroom. This was euphoria.
This album is exactly like that. 57.8 out of 42.6
Review by Pitchfork Luke
Track List:
1. To Our Friends In The Great White North
2. Mondrian Was A Liar
3. Transitions From Persona To Object
4. Swimming The Channel vs. Driving The Chunnel
5. C. Thomas Howell As The “Soul Man”
6. Saint Matthew Returns To The Womb
7. Frequency Ass Bandit
8. I Wanna Be A Sex Symbol On My Own Terms
9. Man The Ramparts
10. Thank God For Worker Bees – Remix
