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PRIZEHOG


PRIZEHOG


"Re-Unvent The Whool"

By Dr. Abner Mality

Looking for something so out there that it would be undetectable by the Hubble Space Telescope? Tired of the usual sludge metal and alternative tropes? Get ready for an extreme bout of "WTFuckery" courtesy of Oregon's Prizehog.

The album sounds like the cover looks. If you can tell me what's going on with the cover, you deserve a prize yourself. To say this is not for everybody is putting things very mildly. I don't think it's for me, but in these days of endless clone acts and retro-nauts clogging things up, the sheer weirdness and originality of Prizehog deserves some accolades. Try to imagine you've had the worst toothache of your life. To withstand the pain, you drink one full gallon of Robitussin. You fill your rumbling stomach with about a dozen cannabis-infused brownies. You lay down on the floor and pass out. You wake up about three in the morning and have the urge to play Black Sabbath, Butthole Surfers and the soundtrack to "Forbidden Planet". All at once. "Re-Unvent The Whool" is about as close as you'll ever get to that experience.

This is woozy, queasy doom metal with heaving amounts of space rock and psychedelia tossed in. Everything sounds wobbly and trippy, but generally heavier than a concrete filled boot. The kicker with Prizehog are the vocals. Never in the history of rock music has there been singing quite like this. Sounds like Don Ho singing underwater at 16 rpm....a totally distorted slow chant directly out of a real bad acid trip. It's....unique, that's for sure.

This ultra-odd approach of Prizehog works quite well on the early tracks. All the titles reflect the chemical-drenched goofiness permeating this project...."Whoady", "Awsme Bube",  "Gnumskull the Ruler".  However, it doesn't take long to figure out that Prizehog has shown you about all they've got by the time "Irrelevant" comes stumbling in a like a drunk getting home at 4 AM. Ultimately, this mushy cosmic doom gets awfully tired. The album ends with a barrage of whacked electronics called "Direction To The Valley". If you make it this long, you won't know which way is up.

I can neither praise nor criticize something like this. If you are desperate for something beyond all known "sounds", grab that Robitussin and get those brownies bakin'...