polaroids of androids

Some albums don't belong on CD. Even cassette format is a little bit too clean. Thank heavens for vinyl. Without it bands like Dead Farmers would be like dogs without homes, babies without parents or meth-addicted popstars without the sweet taste of meth. Compact discs with all their fancy crisp sound would miss the raw quality, emotion and power of bands like the Farmers. They make them sound all plasticy and shiny - like the suits that Puff Daddy and Ma$e used to wear a thousand or so years ago at the birth of glam-rap.

The A-side of this 7" release features the blistering single Violence. It's four minutes of the finest, most refreshing rawness mixed with controlled anarchy that my ears have had the pleasure of hearing so far this year. The vocals are completely swamped by the infectious guitar riff and the fantastically sloppy melody. This isn't some Airbourne 'we rawk' shit, this is the sound of a band that believes in what they are throwing at the masses. There is an element of control as well as the song breaks down to a bass line 'intermission' and mid-song build up only to be counted back in and then destroyed with a fresh guitar riff over the original repeated crashing drums.

The B-side consists of another two doses of fuck off awesomeness. The first is the feedback driven The Suns Of Thunder which starts with conversation-like vocals before morphing into an unexpected screeching guitar solo. The punk driven closer Run is kicked into gear with a sloppy count-in before nicely transisting into a catchy punk riff with muffled vocals once more fantastically layered over the top.

Dead Farmers have delivered an almost perfect smack in the face. They have only strengthened my belief that the Sydney music community is fighting back against the 'scene' image it has been engulfed in. Do yourself a favour and buy this album. Then buy a record player to play it on. Then thank me. Then thank the Dead Farmers for being such a fantastic breathe of raw, polluted, sickening air in this far too squeaky clean shithole we have found ourselves in.