Release DetailsLABEL Robotic Empire Records
RELEASED ON 8/1/2003
posted on 7/2004 By:
There are a few ways I can describe this “album” from Rhode Island’s highly touted Daughters:
A gravel coated 14 inch enema of DEP, Cephalic Carnage, The Locust and Uphill Battle shoved sideways into your rectum.
Having midgets pelt you with broken bottles for eleven minutes.
Being squeezed into a steel ball and put in a giant pinball machine.
Shot in the face with ‘stinger’ buckshot.
Being whipped by Iraqi prison guards with those long sticks for eleven minutes.
Walk on broken glass while clowns bang random metal objects right next to your ears.
Skin a live cat hooked up to an amp, and listen to it on headphones.
Have 68 small ball bearings inserted into your skull then put yourself in a tumble dryer for eleven minutes.
Being kicked repeatedly in the scrotum by a screaming, coked up toddler.
Cutting your own nose off with a circular saw.
Doing Anna Nicole Smith in the ass with a hotdog just out of her reach while in a Gforce testing machine.
If none of these sonic metaphors appeal to do, no not even attempt to listen to this caustic, ultra noisy chaotic mindfuckcore. While they could certainly be placed within the mathcore genre, Daughters are actually far more unstructured, making The Number 12 Looks Like You sound like Kids Bop 6. Eleven songs in eleven minutes, to be honest is a rip off, but to be honest this level of intensity couldn’t be tolerated for much more. Most listeners will take the songs as random, chaotic noise, but within the chaos is insanely tight musicianship and shrewd structuring that’s simply dizzying after many listens. The turmoil of all eleven tracks, complete with pretentiously artsy title like “Damn Those Blood Suckers and Their Good Qualities”, and “Mike Morowitz, The Fantasy Fuck” is awash with discordance, but somehow makes sense. It’s like the sonic equivalent to a Quentin Tarantino movie. There's a few expected quirky interludes ("The Ghost With the Most") but they simply serve as breaths between the abuse.
Not for everyone, but those into self-punishment and aural mutilation by means of scattershot percussion, ultra spastic staccato riffs, and hair raising screams should absolutely get this. It will be the most painful eleven minutes you’ll endure.
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