Writhing Squares

From the opening, sickened, sweaty guitar tones that rip through “Barbarians,” Philly’s Writhing Squares singe the senses and prepare the listener for their latest sonic onslaught. The world boils, tensions mount, cancers consume, the smell of rotten capital runs rampant, and there might not be another record that could soundtrack the looming dread better than Mythology. With the boiled blood of The Stooges, Chrome, and Hawkwind coursing through their veins, the band surfs the storm and comes out smiling. It’s a wicked smile, indeed, peeking through the pall as rhythms crash in cacophonic waves. Daniel Provenzano’s bass is dipped in an oil-slick coating that’s pushed to ignition, especially as Kevin Nickles’ sax slashes at the surrounding environments. Sparks are bound to fly, someone’s liable to get hurt, but the scars only show you’ve been to altar and taken your turn under the turbine.

Mythology hits the listener like a battering ram, built on inertia and entropy, smashing the stasis that surrounds it. The record rings like an alarm bell set to strains of cosmic funk, synth-punk, and acid-dipped jazz. It’s a dystopian record for dystopian times. When we’re bartering water in the rubble of Wall Street and home brewing moonshine in the Lithium mines, these will be the anthems of the unsettled populace. When we rise from the ashes, Writhing Squares will be the house band at the end of the world. Get it on rotation now and beat the crowds.

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