Any reference to “pink” in the minds of most people into underground metal might obviously point to a beloved part of the female genitalia. Here, it may be a reference to the piece of skin that connects the male bag to the rim. Boris have enlightened the world with a disc that fills the void left by Rob Zombie in the early nineties with his breakthrough album MonsterZombieThunderBloodOldCarsYeeah3000 or whatever the name of that album was.

Boris play some type of modern-day Red Hot Chili Peppers hybrid music that, in essence, blows. I had always thought of the band as playing depressing doom much like Corrupted, an idea that had been floating around in my head since I heard them on a Southern Lord compilation a few years back. The name of the song from this compilation was "Huge" from the album Amplifier Worship. After listening to this track, I put the band in the same ranks as Khanate, Grief, Cattlepress, Noothgrush, and other fuzzy doom bands. This Khanate style music can only be heard on the track "Blackout," which is actually pretty decent. The slow drone makes the Helmet style vocals tolerable on this track, a vocal style that persists on the whole album. This is lo-fi crap that would probably be seen as a top 25 album by Entertainment Weekly if it had more publicity. We should not be nodding to the sixties anymore, as we can probably prop up the corpse of Jimi Hendrix, stick a guitar in his hand, and find the sound of the guitar falling on the ground more tolerable than this. This album has no place on this website nor a place on any shelves in any store. The disc should be used to keep furniture from scratching the floor, to use as a washer for a small penis, or as a means to play ultimate Frisbee with the people who listen to it.

Like any good reviewer, I like to do a little research and let my fingers do the popping on my Googler. I was a bit confused by the band and wondered what others had thought of this moist and steamy dish. Stewart Voegtlin of Stylus magazine states in his review of this crap album… “Does this one ever start out curiously: elegiac rockist riffs, triumphal drums, an oddly Silly Putty’d simulacrum of Stephen Malkmus’ scrotum-tugging whine. The normally ebullient guitarist Wata is rendered abnormally subtle, sending soft guitar sparks into Atsuo’s soft cymbal sizzle: Flying Saucer Attack grounded by gobs of hash. What must be a piss take on “post-rock” collides nosily into the type of Akarma’d Brillo pad scuzz one’s used to hearing from Boris.”

What the fuck does this all mean? Why did McDonald’s release the McDLT? Why does Taco Bell refuse to bring back the Bacon Cheeseburger Burrito? Why do shitty baseball players always become announcers? Why do people play field hockey? All these questions… But I do notice some similarities between this little ditty and my review; a reference to scrotums. However, I tended to focus more on the connector piece between the bag and rim, the piece that holds the “brown bag lunch.” There are also references to Brillo pads and pissing, which is cool as long as you piss on the Brillo and then use it to clean your baked ziti dish. I would also like to piss on “post-rock” and anything with “post” in the word, such as “post-hardcore,” “Post cereals,” “goal post,” “outpost,” “postage,” “post-doctorate,” and “poster boys.” It would also be a most excellent time to piss on a postcard and write, “Yellow greetings from Utah!”

Mr. Voegtlin continues on to state the he was “unimpressed” by the album. Stew, I won’t be so nice. Chuck, I can name that tune in three notes - this album sucks!

If you are interested in reading the rest of this other review, feel free: http://www.stylusmagazine.com/reviews/boris/pink.htm

Written By: Double Ds