You can't miss it. Left past the disembodied wailing, cross at the first set of bagpipes, and it's clearly signposted from there: [B]'This way madness lies'[/B]...
You can’t miss it. Left past the disembodied wailing, cross at the first set of bagpipes, and it’s clearly signposted from there: ‘This way madness lies’. Welcome to the world of Volcano The Bear, hometown Leicester, mindset Mars.
If today’s avant-garde is most often viewed under the sodium glare of electronica, mini-album ‘Yak Folks Y’Are’ takes a determined step back, back to the ancient realms of Krautrock and Canterbury where he who had most hair was king. This means there are moments – like the cowbells and bleating of ‘Oslo Top’ – when laughter is a better medicine than the murky potions apparently knocked back by the Bear. Yet if the pall of conceptual art hangs heavy (images of Balaclava‘d political dance troupes loom during the more dissonant squawking) when VTB hit a groove, it’s rare indeed. The metallic flail of ‘Where Are The Bounds?’ sounds like it’s been dragged through Can backwards, while the monkish intonations of ‘Banket Ball’ and ‘Hello Graham’ suggest what might have been if Gorky‘s had remained closeted in their caravan growing Robert Wyatt beards.
Ephemeral’s not the word. Lunacy probably is. But if you’ve ever wondered about getting that non-essential hole in your head, this might be a good time.