re-po (noun, informal): a car or other item that has been repossessed
Is Repo a recession nod from the experimental art rock Brooklyn trio, who perhaps knew something we didn’t when they named their album? I don’t suppose it matters because the similarities are striking regardless of intent. The record exists to impress people who don’t know you very well, which is all anyone does in these days of job hunting and resume fine-tuning. The twisted crunches and esoteric groans of Repo make it rather uncomfortable listening, but then, you may have uncomfortable people around you. Brilliance is often uneasy, and crisis yields those silver linings. I’m not sure if avant-garde noise will soothe unemployment worries, but it might at least make your brain temporarily shut down.
At an impressive seven minutes, “La Cucaracha” might almost get you dancing. Almost. I’m similarly impressed with “Lazy TV,” mostly because of the mental images its winding sonics provide. On the other hand, when it comes to the album’s interludes, one could be named “Latent Headache,” and I wouldn’t know the difference.
For its title alone, “Ultra Vomit Craze” is my favorite, fondly reminding me of parties I have attended or hosted in the past two years that have devolved into puke-related story time. To achieve the best results, think about your worst experience with vomit—public place, embarrassing witness, color, consistency—and recount in vivid detail. Watch your party turn into an exercise in horrific storytelling, empathy, and riotous laughter. Throwing on incomprehensible, nausea-inducing music a la Black Dice in the background could really take things to the next level. Sound juvenile? I guess you’ll have to find your own way to lighten the somber economic mood then.