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IED-IUD self-titled

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Fuck you IED-IUD. Yeah, looking directly at you Danny Propert, David Litz, and Ken Mars. These vets from such ear-bleed skeeze as the New Flesh (Propert), Sri Aurobindo Vincent Black Shadow (Litz), and various MT6 Records hoo-haws (Mars) wrapped their trio IED-IUD’s goddamned debut CD-R in an 8-1/2-by-11 inch sheet of liner notes (show-flier photocopy-machine printed with a collage of titties and distressing Asian instructions for inserting an intrauterine device), and then shoved that bundle inside a latex nitrile blue glove, and placed that inside a plastic baggie with a sheet of architecture board. By the time you even get this goddammned CD-R out of the gratuitously frustrating packaging without ripping it all to shreds you’re ready to drop kick children down the street. So it’s worth repeating: Fuck, you, IED-IUD. In the face.

Of course, the trio saves its best middle finger for when you finally get this thing into the CD player, because IED-IUD delivers the perfect soundtrack for punting tykes around the neighborhood. The six tracks here are dark-hallway assaults of incomprehensible lyric screaming and choking, instruments wearing thick distortion as if it was a fur coat to ward off the sort of Midwestern winter chill that makes your snot freeze, and a battery of high-pitched electronic shrieks and whistles and verbalizations that could feel like silly sound effects, but in this context sound more like the desperation of a kidnapped nurse after four days of being locked in the closet.

Pushing it all down is an oddly rhythmic thrust, as if IED-IUD couldn’t decide if it was trying to be a Whitehouse affront or get the booty moving at the weirdest after-hours dance party in the trailer park. “Harvesting” clicks along with a glitched-out pulse, vocals panned between channels. “Engulfed” kicks off in a sludge-rock pound before a needling electronic tone comes to give it a sort of spectral ambient presence. “Have Sex With Robots” is as grotesquely mechanically throbbing as it advertises. Beat-wise, IED-IUD here sounds like what Atari Teenage Riot might have come up with after 72 hours of straight sippin’ sizzurp.

The best track here leads everything off. “Mutant Tick Girl,” aside from a great name, piles some combo of guitarsdrumsbass into a stumbling mess of anxious adrenaline. Pretty? Oh g-d no. Rocking? Not really at all. Can you dance to it? Only if you’re on crutches and fistfuls of pain meds. But for some reason, it nails this band’s ugliness beautifully.

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