Medusa
"En Raga Sül"

(Hawthorne Street Records 2008)Medusa - En Raga Sül

The band photo inside of Medusa's "En Raga Sül" features singer Scott van Buren, surrounded by the blurred faces of his bandmates, shirtless and slack-jawed, seemingly ready to beat the crap out of anyone who talks shit on his band's music. The album is pretty much like that photo. It's stripped-down and kinda hazy, but you'll most definitely get knocked on your ass if you don't take it seriously.

"En Raga Sül" is like a sketchy hookup that's so wrong, and yet oh so right. Yeah, it's ugly, loud, and abrasive; but at the same time it's intriguingly dangerous and all kinds of fun. Medusa are even kind enough to provide the beer goggles needed to tolerate even the half hour you'll be spending together. They brew up fifteen rounds of a wicked garage punk/noise rock/hardcore concoction. Medusa's blend is not unlike a more simplified and thrashy Converge, with waaay more sense of humor and an affinity for schlocky ‘70s Mexican horror films. The band bounces between adrenaline-spilling psychosis and slower, more jarring neck snappers. Van Buren is alternately yelpy and screechy, while Brad Williams pinions everything down with bombastic, massive drumming.

Three of Medusa's members also play in Racebannon, and apparently this album took something like five years to hammer out. Truthfully, those guys with dual band citizenship should focus on getting more Medusa material out, because "En Raga Sül" kicks Racebannon in the groin and steals its girlfriend. See, you get a (metaphorical) skeevy drunkard and a douchy, woman-stealing prick all in one album. Now where else can you get all that, and some raucously dirty music to boot?

A-

buy it!