Blug

Reviews

Blug Now! More Than Ever cassette

Countless grimy demo tapes have passed through my hands over the years, and this tape is the grimiest—a magic-marker-scrawled, multi-generation thrift store cassette dubbed over to oblivion with impenetrable boombox rehearsal jams. There is a lyric sheet that came connected by rubber band that not only has words but also a rudimentary guitar tab for the players, and I’m convinced it came straight out of the rehearsal space as a 1/1 master recording (I had to rewind it myself). Is it good? It’s hard to tell, being a sonic black hole of room hiss, blasting feedback, and one-take chaos. On first listen, it kind of sounds like the SHAGGS with a distortion pedal, which isn’t a diss at all. Group chanting, feedback-tinged power chords, and ramshackle pounding fill the space. There are a couple of false drum starts on one song, which made me laugh because this shit’s not exactly in time anyway. So, good is subjective, but punk? Oh hell yeah. This crusty slab of plastic and tape captures the joy of bashing out chords and yelling what’s on your mind (sometimes all in unison). It’s the collective energy of creation and the purest distillation of DIY spirit. It’s a mess, and it’s awesome, and it’s beautiful. This tape isn’t streaming, but you can search for “BLUG 2” on the Bandcamp page of Olympia’s Music for People for a clearer listen. BLUG, let me know if you need the tape back.

Blug Turnip Nation cassette

Liberated now wave, as brought to you by three of this century’s foremost freaks—you might (and should) know Grace Ambrose, Marissa Magic, and Max Nordile from their time spent warping minds in projects like PREENING, DEBT RAG, MOZART, NEON, and GIRLSPERM (that’s just the short list), and together, they are BLUG. Turnip Nation was written and recorded over the course of just a few hours this summer, a frenetic and agitated first thought/best thought scrawl of clanging percussion, loping, eternal return bass lines, and gnarled, punctuated shocks of treble-heavy guitar in six minute-long (give or take) parts. Intuitive instant music as a document of friendship and collaboration, art-punk at its most wild and free, can you take it?