Digital Albums
Artist: Green Milk from the Planet Orange

City Calls Revolution

Click for Larger Image

Tracklist & Samples

Concrete City Breakdown listen Buy Song ($1)
Omgs listen Buy Song ($1)
Demagog listen Buy Song ($1)
A Day In The Planet Orange listen Buy Song ($1)


From across a veiled and ashen cosmos, well, from across the Sea Of Japan anyways; from the Planet Orange, hidden somewhere in the bosom of Nippon, gushes forth a froth of Green Milk. Fleeing is for naught, because City Calls Revolution is an eruption of Vesuvian intensity, and the Milk floe flash and searing, thick with Magma, scorching beast and building in its glowering wake. It's time to get psyched about psych again! If GMFTPO's first was its ersatz Future Days, then CCR is its angry Yeti. The soft, lolling chime of the first piece is as pleasant as any of Can's quieter or of Gunther Schickert's more meditative moments. With a sudden, deadly force, the group then bursts out of the carton sounding more like a direct hit on a munitions factory than simply a power trio. Oh, the slide rules and trig functions are still there, making this a calculated prog assault. It's the pounding and pummeling raw cocaine garage blast that sets this apart from its predecessor's more mushroomed trails. Inferno like riffs crackle and rise to near Naked City/Yamatsuka Eye levels. Did I mention the screeching? Not that this is a crazy noise fest, cuz it ain't. Though it is a huge psychedelic rock monster, it does prove the possibility of a subtle hand grenade. The stop/start arrangements continue to smell of kif soaked Moroccan desert nights, even while the drums fire like Maschinenpistolen into the gathering clouds. This is a kind of acid thrash that may even CREATE brain cells. It's what headbanging Nobel Prize laureates mosh to. As though sensing a need for a small kindness, GMFTPO then let the dust settle onto their pickups and pads while they turn their torrent into a calm oasis of quiet overdriven tones slowly rippling over one another. This concentrated breathing exercise turns into something of a long intro to the epic second half of the record. From a long, midtempo and subdued progressive groove, down into silence itself, the album says its farewells after coughing up a last sprinting explosion of metallics. These final violent throes are then hushed, by and by, with a body-swaying, heart slowing melt of Kraut. Got Green Milk?