Little Claw, jesus...what can you say? Too much for Michigan's mirror, they shifted ass to Portland Oregon (land of JOMF, Smegma, Meltzer and so much more) in order to stew their mushrooms in relative peace. Resultant sput has been as disturbing as walking to find a bed full of live catfish. The trio has a way of disrupting flows of space and time in ways that are difficult to fathom. Their debut LP on Ypsilanti was an incredible head-rush of collapsing, femme-punk readymades, shoved screaming into art's hottest furnace, this Ecstatic Peace LP is even more brain-roasting. They're the only band I've heard that seem capable of tapping into the indescribable art-raunch wobble of Leesa Aldredge, watch them and tremble.
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