Load up the trunk with beer, motherf–ers – we’re hitting the desert. Forget techno-metal. We take doom-laden riffs. We take whatever hallucinogens we can find. Hell, we even take the gong. But most of all, we take [a]Nebula[/a]. And by the time we’re finished, the desert will look like “the center of the universe”.
For crawling somewhere on the underbelly of southern California, three gaunt men have brought the collision of heavy metal, punk and psychedelia to a shattering conclusion. Their names are Eddie, Mark and Ruben. Their riffs, let us assure you, kick ass. From the Sabbath-defying let’s-get-wasted grind of ‘To The Center’ to the obligatory fuck-you finale ‘You Mean Nothing’, [a]Nebula[/a] have mastered rock’s lexicon and spat it back out with taco sauce. And, like all the best metal, [a]Nebula[/a] are beyond parody, as the out-of-tune sitars on ‘Fields Of Psilocybin’ loudly proclaim.
The catch? Ah, that would be where trash turns to tribute. Stooges cover ‘I Need Somebody’, sung by Mudhoney‘s Mark Arm, helps itself to generous portions of Detroit balls and attitude, but is ultimately radio fodder. And though they record in neo-radical Seattle, the closest [a]Nebula[/a] get to the front line is their Legalise Cannabis stand.
Yet for a no-bullshit antidote to US agony-rock, for razor-sharp, front-of-car moshing with unashamed hippy antics also on board, you won’t find a handier sub-galaxy than [a]Nebula[/a]. Marilyn Manson, you have been warned.