Here lies ZERO DANCE: SINGLES 1998-2009 Two unrelenting platters of freak show squalor - Frankenstein-sutured together - connecting most of those pesky singles you were either too cheap to buy or too lazy to hunt down that first time around. Let's right some wrongs! From their earliest ear-bleed Horror Stories-era, through their turn at upholding the noise rock torch to their last organ patched, quasi industrial gasp - it's all in the soup. If you're new to The Blowtops, welcome to the cult. This will be a helluva' haul to the uninitiated. Wear safety goggles and stay away from sharp objects. For the rest of us out here filling holes or dealing with a debilitating case of collector completism, It's time to relive the days when a band truly terrified. Remember those nights standing a little too close to the stage. Recall the moments you spent sliding about on a dangerously wet, beer soaked floor. Those broken bottles teetering near the monitors, so close. The mic cords haphazardly knotted up and coiled at your feet. A wave of over amplified guitar fuzz disorienting your lobes. The organ smacks you about like a deadline dialtone. That jack hammering beat, knocking all common sense out of your softening skull. You are degenerate. You are neanderthal. These were best times of your miserable lives. Now prop that ol' corpse up and shake your mundane existence to the curb. Anyone can passively listen to music. Yawn. It's time to FEEL these songs again. Let The Blowtops salt your wounds. - Robvertigo FOR FANS OF: Tinnitis, backwards Crampsian riffage, maniacal laughter, Jim Foetus Thirwell, unhinged rockabilly, Suicide (the band and the act), living in a damp cave, Big Black, cathode static, Scientists (Aussie and mad varieties), late night morgue diaries, Pussy Galore, internet usage without the safe search, The Beguiled/Necessary Evils axis of derangement, early Unsane, human skin lampshades, AND SO ON.
