Throwing sparks like two gigantic rocks grinding against each other, Los Angeles' LAMPS seem intent on doing things their way. And on every count, we're extremely pleased they do. Fronted by the unimpeachable Monty Buckles, the Lamps' music alternately careens, crashes, throbs and urges. This is mongoloid frenzy music. Are they paranoid, frustrated, or merely disgusted with humanity? The truth is usually somewhere in the middle. It beats me, but when a band has a dash of Necessary Evils, a dollop of Karate Party, and a fairly heaping mound of their own chemical blend, I'm always available (as we all should be). The trio's debut LP had primitive, cavernous aggression pounding our asses into submission, while their soon to be released follow-up shows a very nice progression. Phase two of the Lamps' recorded journey is marked by more adventurous and expanded sonic approaches, while retaining the thuggish essence that satisfies the planet of the apes.
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