don't be scared. the water is cool and refreshing
toolshed - self titled e.p (twisted nerve)

all hail the new pop manchurian candidate: graham massey (808 state mainman) who with his new collective, "toolshed" have literally approximated madness with a set of controlled veritable auditory hallucinations of klang associations with their self-titled e.p.

no amount of cajolery, praise or hostility will ever escape from you as toolshed is an involuntary re-education of the fundamental beliefs of that you may have as an pop-music listening individual.

and not since the invisible spies collective of toah dynamic or the manson family has the idea sounded so fresh, so freaked and so bloody contrary to the frowning studiousness of space-drone-prog-rock of today. why? i don''t know. one should never question non-sense. and toolshed are beyond sense. why? one should never question authority. toolshed don''t even try. their only authority is the never-never land of chemical rebellion and like fatal nerve agents who seemingly awake every morning to the sound of explosions - toolshed - have a need to document these killing experiences on vinyl.

killing? oh no! "pazuzu" is a cluster bomb of fuzzed-out- theremin with weird orchestrated tonalities of ancestral kraut-drone; approximating keyboard murder. but…… but murder? well, at the very least toolshed hypnotise test-subjects into an easy kill frenzy. this is obvious by the acid-drenched guitar psyche-drone of "marble" which morphs into the sky high space-free fall of "sound-track"-era can. similarly "nananananananana" has the key urgency of a commodore 64 voice calming intoning you into a trance whilst a yma sumac sound-a-like croons high-pitched octaves over bernard hermann brass arrangements making life into a cool psychedelic thriller. it only just prepares you for the espionage of "gobots"; a mondo-filmic sequence of tribal drumming complete with thugged-out squelchy robot noises. whilst the influence of 70s italian prog-rock horrorists goblin comes clear with the during the secretive laughter of a promise of a spooked after-life atmosphere which will call up dim terrors upon your life.

massey has obviously seen the future and it is: spooky moog-based music and messianic freedom collectives. however, this is not polyphonic spree casting empty novelty rewrites of the musical 'hair' but instead the sound of love from outer-space. so beware! take care! stay scared! the rules of pop are being written and rewritten with the politics of drugged miscalculation and experimentation, in mind!. this is the new pop world as evidenced by toolshed, a better world, which will be run by sundazed hooligans with a flower in the left hand and a pistol in the right.

sonny tremaine