Since the crack of the aughts, one of the most consistent sources of primal rock pummel has been between the runouts of an Endless Boogie LP. While all around them rose up the ghost of garage rock gone graceless, the Boogie felt the heat of the beast emanating from basements and cracked practice spaces they’d hollowed out into homes. There was never an element of style playing against substance, the Boogie is substance, pure and plain. They will any notion of style to life out of the sweat vapors and tube filament char left lingering in the caked atmosphere of the room they’re punishing at the moment. While the recordings post-Focus Level began to use the studio to their advantage, Volume 1 and Volume 2 were the raw reek of the concrete wall captured to tape. Thankfully, for any who missed out on crusted copies of their early days got a crack at these bound up by No Quarter in 2019.
Last year the label did one better and unsealed the long amassing vaults of practice space tapes, presenting them here as a 4LP set of sternum disrupting floor shakers that contained unheard and unreleased treasures. Though some may have slipped out on march table CD-rs, more often than not these recordings were privy only to the band as they shaved these basement rituals into fodder for studio thunder to come. As much as the band lives on the stage — a coordinated animal attack of ferocious Zone X boogie — their true habitat may well be the practice space. There, during 3 AM exhumations of demon sweat, the band brings forth the pure and unadulterated form of the Boogie. It’s a fair question to ask; “Do I need 4 LPs of Endless Boogie thunder?” You do, my fried, I assure you, you do more than you could ever know. The band will always continue to evolve into the next stage of rock’s soul — the elemental sound that we all need, presented in pure throb, the first time it slips from your speakers. Yet here, with two Sweeneys in tow and no expectations on them, no audience intended, the band is absolute heat and light. That’s a thing you need to experience in your own living room. There are still some of these boxes left at the label and I wouldn’t wait too long to scrape together the scratch for this one. Hell, don’t eat for a week, there’s no gnawing hunger that might be more mighty than the hunger for insistent churn between the grooves of these four platters.
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