Cassette W/ 3 Color Screen Printed J-Card
Edition of 100
Heavy Duty Mama
Original cassette master mailed to Beniffer Editions with a return address reading Owen Sound, Ontario. Short note from the Nephew of the artist (I dunno if he knows the beniffer sound, but he nailed it) that mentions that his Uncle who he only casually knew just gave him his come one come all album by his dream band Denim Reptile. Master had marker fading, but legibly saying "91-97". Kid tracks down his uncle, tells him that BFF is interested and to give us more information. Immediately after tracklistings, questionable band members list and original high school yearbook drawings were submitted.
Edition of 100 C86 cassette comes in a Screenprinted fold out, layout of Rudy Gwana's scribblings. If the artist finds out his tape has just dropped, then maybe he will get in touch with us here. But in the meantime, a real developed persona of someone stepping out of their own skin and becoming what we only know as Denim Reptile.
"When those long haired suburbanites slither out of their basements in grey sweatpants stinking of Labatt beer, vomit and stale subpar sensimilla just long enough to an order of Charlie's Fried Chicken and ogle the Catholic school girls hanging out at the mall. I always imagined that they were crawling back down there to play race car video games or watch porno about women with disturbingly large breats. These demons may not spring from such a scuzz ball mind, but the guy who gave the tapes to Beniffer said his uncle recorded then in the 90's in Owen Sound Ontario so immediately my mind went to that place. Who his uncle is or what he hopes for when he laid down these tracks is actually quite mysterious. The music itself is kind of a mystery, hidden behind the veil of a bad four-track recording. It is obvious though that the creator of this music is a philosopher. There are so many joyous moments, celebratory and tender revelations lipped in under a layer of heavy rock bravado. Savage Cats In Heat manages to be pop, sludge, frightening and catchy all at the same time. Dead Shit is a cascading waterfall of keyboards, bending into moments of out and out psychchedelia. Dog City ends with silence and a man's voice imitating a barking dog, the kind of barking dog noise that you hear a man make when you're riding your bike in a skirt, but this dog barks in an awkward silence. Outside of his milieu he is vulnerable, a surrealist explorer, a lost an bewildered pup. Each track creates a new atmosphere and lends itself to so many questions about its intended meaning. Every song comes with its own reason for any enthusiastic listener to muse on peculiarity and come out scratching their heads. My personal favorite, the one I have returned to in my mind s thousand times is the shorts and anxious number Second Puberty. Its a womens voice, wild and restrained. Out of her head for a cathartic experience over fast paced heart beat drum machines and keyboards. This guy knows how to have a great time. This guy smokes the kind of week that takes you to alternative dimensions. I don't know if he wears sweatpants but if he does its only because he cares not for constraints, and if he whistles at a passing school girl it's just his uncomfortable joie de vivre. I will certainly never underestimate the potential complex psyche of the basement bottom feeder again. If this writeup hasn't made you at all curious about the winding corridors of that particular rocker mind, than i must have failed in my task and you should go out and get this tape anyway." Offerings Newspaper, Toronto.