, attached to 1994-05-19

Review by kevinAreHollo

kevinAreHollo Based on David Steinberg's recommendation of this particularly spooky Stash, I gave this one a spin tonight.

I'll get right to the point: how this Weekapaug isn't on the jam chart or highlighted as Noteworthy is beyond me. It's jaw-dropping in it's conciseness, no time wasted or breathing room, just a sub-7 minute runaway mineshaft ride with Trey doing his best Indiana Jones.

Temple of Doom is right.

Mike starts this thing off with a bunch of wild slapping figures, trilling chords way up the neck in a way I simply have never heard him play before. They come in like an oiled machine and the rest is a force of nature. How's that for mixed fucking metaphors.

Isn't that it though? These guys playing loosely with organic material in crazy mechanical ways? Listen to how Trey and Mike IMMEDIATELY play the same descending figure out of the jamming gate. They do it again towards the close. In fact, Fishman, who is a maniac this entire show, gets in as much crash action as a metal freak would want or need and follows Trey's leads more than once.

And Trey. Fucking Trey! It's more than Machine Gun. He simply smokes his lines with some sort of cool abandon, making things sound effortless but leaving you breathless just the same. It's funny. Made me laugh out loud. It's faster and more melodic and of a creative energy that didn't or doesn't exist then or today. His penchant for Languedocian feedback bleeds into his solo, and the result is ear-splitting sirens and Howitzer wails stuffed inside these monstrous jazzy runs. Nuts.

I can't wait to listen to the Hood tomorrow.


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