RECORDS

The unending fuggin’ clickety-snick of 1,000 push-mowers jellies the afternoon air into a cube of dark boredom ’n’ inner numbness: the suburbs’ obsession with stability curdled into spiritual stagnation. Then one fine day, a clatter of cheap guitars and many drummers drumming rises to mock the drone of 1,000,000 mundane household chores and dull routines.