TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD PRESS
SUGGARBUZZ (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
Debouching in the corner like a beaten dog growling the last desperate attempt at an animus avengement. Incautious, cursory tales of buzz, boisterousness, crash, yamp, and detonation. Harking back to an era when Jesus Lizard and Scratch Acid left claw marks at your door. Full of depth in the wall of noise category. Nothing predictable about this release and loving every turn and bend it creates.

Ready to rip your head off and desecrate your decapitated head by shoving its spiny member through your eye sockets and releasing it’s seeds into the vapid sponge.

I have been inseminated by the religious uttering of a madman. If your Depends don’t have a skid mark the size of Route 66 then you must be in rigor. Let, Satan inseminate your mind and be rewarded with the freedom of having exquisite taste in post punk, art noise, screaming mind fuck acid flashbacks.

SLEAZEGRINDER (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
Garage punk, art punk, noise rock…call it what you will, but Tractor Sex Fatality have got the musical equivalent to violent dry heaving down cold (and sweaty). If you had’ve forced me to listen to this interminable ear rape of a band a few years ago I likely would’ve kicked you in the balls, but I suppose I’m a little wiser – or have fewer brain cells – because now I know that when it comes to playing an instrument, there are rare instances when it’s not so much about how you use them as it is about how you abuse them. And TSF abuse the hell out of everything on Peel and Eat, from cymbals and strings to form and function. And themselves too, I imagine, considering the whole thing sounds like it was recorded by a gang of naked, bleeding, writhing, David Yow-worshipping troglodytes with plastic bags over their heads. I’d compare them to The Boredoms or somebody like that, but I don’t listen to The Boredoms, man. Same goes for Jesus Lizard and Black Flag too. I mean, I’m all for deconstruction and mayhem and sheer panic, but there’s only so much dry heaving I can take before my insides spill out into the toilet. I only hope you’ve got a stronger stomach for this sort of thing.

NO FRONT TEETH (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
TRACTOR SEX FATALITY make a viciously fucked up noise, it's so guttural and turbulent and fuses the sound of interesting and revolutionary early punk bands like THE PRICKS, BIG BOYS and THE CRUCIFUCKS with the erratic and terrorizing approach of 'Pioughd' era BUTTHOLE SURFERS, some critically distorted and trebly guitar, heavy and warped bass, hysterical drums and convulsive vocals. Oh yeah, add some pure chaos on top of that and you can start to piece their sound together. I can't tell you how gratifying it is for a reviewer to get a release like this- totally ambiguous from the get go.no obviousness from the band name, fascinating artwork you really want to listen to it, so you look at the huge pile o' shit that's built up on your desk that you can't bring yourself to review (more Oi! and metallic hardcore.great.) and you stick this is and absorb it. Get lost in the depth and disorder and a release that warrants your time. This is a mental release
and I can't believe that they can get it this wild and still so intelligible. That' some serious writing and producing there and yet another Dead Beat release that pushes boundaries.

MAXIMUM ROCK N ROLL (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
I don’t usually like bands with names like this (why should I answer to you?), but I’m enough of a man to admit that I’m not always right. Peel and Eat is big, graceless, utterly lacking in subtlety, and a mutant throwback to the halcyon days of AmRep noise bands, sour malt liquor, and abuse of over-the-counter cold medication. Noise is for heroes, leave the music for zeros. “A-Bomb,” “Crime in the Bushes,” “Skeleton Keys” and “Drumbrake” are the perfect analgesic: metallic (in a non-“heavy metal” sense, more like scrap iron in a clothes dryer), grimy, unconcerned with appearances. Good, as in good bad good. Thanks, Tractors!

ODYSSEY ZINE (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
Brutal, psychotic, explosive... These are the words that come to mind when you hear Tractor Sex Fatality. Every song sounds like the climax of the album. You just get high point after high point after high point. "Dance the Damage" is the only song that I would argue as disposable, and even that is pretty great if you disregard the foggy recording quality. This album is dark and cavernous... tremendous, stupendous, loud and byzantine. With guitar riffs hitting you like a punch in the chest, while the disorienting crash of cymbals fills you with alluring unease. These guys probably have more in common with Scratch Acid or something of that ilk (they cover Cannibal, so there you go), but I couldn't help thinking about my favorite Chrome Cranks songs when I dug this piece of noise. I'm not sure why, but I'd recommend this if you like either of those bands (I happen to like both, so lucky me). This album creates a gigantic racket, and if you've been around the block with this sort of stuff, you're going to notice something decidedly different about these guys that I can't quite put my finger on. Totally relentless and thoroughly enjoyable. Amazing. I love it. Serious. Don't let this triple-A title pass you by. That is all.

TERMINAL BOREDOM (TRACTOR SEX FATALITY - 'Peel and Eat' CD, Dead Beat)
The debut full-length (by default) from the entitiy that is TSF. This one was actually recorded after the record that should be out any day now on Big Neck, and features a stream-lined four-piece line-up. "Peel and Eat" is a song Scratch Acid might have written. And speaking of them, TSF pull one of the ballsiest moves in recent memory and attempt to cover "Cannibal". And they actually come out of it OK. It's a fairly respectful version, and obviously fits their M.O. There's a lot more going on on thsi record though. "Drumbrake" is straightforward punk covered in slime. On "Marco Polo" they utilize the old Gibby Haynes' "I'm-having-a-conversation-with-myself-through-a-megaphone" as vocals trick quite effectively. "Stain" lurches around with a Killdozer-ish muscle. And the finest moment might be the closer, provacatively titled "The Woodsman", that takes jazz structure and blows it up real good. I like this one a lot, as it is punk without being "punk", and of course I was reared on the early-Nineties sludge this stuff hearkens back to. The busy drummming keeps the somgs in what seems like a constant state of flux, and Rob has the perfect vocal demeanor for this stuff: harsh when it calls for it, but not too overwrought, and just wild enough where it doesn't take away from the music. He's not one of those "Hey, look at me!" gimmicky nutcase types, but the type of guy that lets the music create the spectacle as he writhes on the floor. The only things that could make this better: a lyric sheet and a vinyl version.