Nathan Ventura & The Buttercups Blew Me Away

This record is like nothing I've ever heard, and I've heard at least four albums in my life. Pucker Up conjures Hunter S. Thompson in the desert at 3 AM, tripping on mescaline, eating dusty spiders. The electric guitar sometimes sounds like a buzzsaw and usually like a string is about to break, the standup bass rocks harder than The Jesus Lizard, the drums sound like flattened cardboard boxes, and the unpretentious, distorted vocals sing bizarre tales of loneliness and going to sleep crying to Michael Hurley. This might be the best record of the year.