The Minaretss – Vietghanistan Of The Soul
Along with Hitler & The Nasties, Slick Lizard, Alabama’s The Minaretss are the finest essayists of the git-wave sub genre of shit-wave. Mainly dealing with the themes of hate, self-hate and misanthropy, the album belts along at a fair pace. Over thirty songs in ten minutes. Live they’re even faster, sometimes leaving the audience trailing in their wake as they bundle, amps and all, into waiting taxis, door money burning holes in their studded leather bum bags. All of the hype over their infamous Mohammed gigs, where the band wore painter’s easel sandwich boards drawn with their now notorious portraits of Mohammed drawn by Mohammed. Self-portraits of the prophet. But they weren’t really drawn by Mohammed, they were drawn by drummer Slack Rodgers. In his shit and wee. It confused and enraged in equal measures. When all the dust settled around the confusion, all that was left was a shit-stack of shit-hot rage – and the band ran with it and ran away for a bit.
The Minarets disappeared in the hope of avoiding the fatwa but it was in vain. Lead singer Blue Gordon fell apart mentally under the strain of writing new material that would insult more people than just the Muslim community. But by God they’ve nearly done it. And it’s nearly all good. So here we find Gordon exploring the themes of cultural sensitivity. In songs like 1-2-3, God I’m Gonna Kill You, it works. But sadly songs in like Why Are You All Trying To Kill Me, Gordon’s earlier hubris gives way to extreme navel gazing and self-pitying. It doesn’t wash with the bands previous kick-ass attitude to everything. Something has changed. Blue Gordon’s head has gone wrong. But, luckily, from the deepest depths of Gordon’s misery we leap up into the mad rush of side two. Here the band really gel and the garage rock develops a teutonic, krautrock, Germanic edge. Motorik drums and slabs of guitar frame the songs bizarre subject matter. It’s simply breathtaking. Waaaaaaaaaah! Ye-ah! Mondah Is D.R.A.G.O.N Day is worth the admission alone. This is glorious. Watching a man unravel, watching a band hit their stride.
Reviewed by Peter Ballast.
