I'm glad I got into this album before seeing Black Eyes' live show, because I would have been very unimpressed with the album after witnessing the insanity of their first show in Omaha. They nearly tore the ceiling off that tiny basement, and it was a nigh-religious experience. It's hard to believe that their first full-length, the s/t on Dischord, is almost perfect, but doesn't even come close to matching the intensity of the live show.
Throughout the album, Black Eyes leave you confused, violated, and wet from their own brand of cacophonous funk that makes your entire body swirl into a mindless, ass-shaking shadow of your former self. The vocals are disjointed but still seem to mix together in a chaotic post-hardcore stew of screaming, singing, squawking, mumbling, and a billion other methods of unorthodox musical communication. The music is absolutely original, and the band comes off just as strong on the lyrical side of the album with their own bizarre records of violation, which include child molestation ("King's Dominion") and rape ("A Pack of Wolves"). You have no trouble feeling the same because the music overwhelms you and makes you feel like a child. And ohh, doesn't it feel good to have your cherry popped again?
While almost all 10 songs on the album are highlights, the cream of the crop are definitely "Someone Has His Fingers Broken," "A Pack of Wolves," "Deformative," and a perfect case of "saving the best for last," the final track "Letter to Raoul Peck."
The only problem is this album is it is relatively short, and "Letter to Raoul Peck" leaves you practically drooling for more. Luckily the album has the highest replay value out of any other album of the year, except after maybe Hearts of Oak. It's not quite the perfect length, but too much would have been worse than too little.
So buy this album and bend the fuck over, Jimmy.
