Providence, RI’s DAUGHTERS, are back w/ the follow-up to their “Canada Songs” album Robotic Empire, 2003) entitled “Hell Songs,”, an entirely new approach to music in general. After their last US tour w/ epic instrumental-rock masters, Red Sparowes and Pelican and giving new meaning to the word brutal, DAUGHTERS have expanded their minds and abilities, introducing unholy and outrageous new elements to their sound, leaving behind whatever could be considered typical within their genre, and fitting in perfectly to the monstrous Hydra Head roster. At times sounding like label-mates Oxbow or cult-legends Arab-on-Radar (on steroids), “Hell Songs” hits like a Mac Truck, pummeling its listener in a way that is, to-date, unmatched.
"What the fuck you guys? The vocals: What happened to them?”
- A fan posting on Daughters’ MySpace page
After staking out a reasonably comfortable bus-stop bench near the same wretched intersection where Lightning Bolt, the Locust, Oxbow and the Dillinger Escape Plan work their filthy corners, Providence, Rhode Island’s Daughters slowly unzipped and whipped out 2003’s Canada Songs (Robotic Empire). The art-school kids shit themselves; Some Girls, Melt Banana and Doomriders went on tour with them, and the dudes over at Three One G asked them to cover a Birthday Party song (”Marry Me (Lie! Lie!)”) for a tribute compilation (Release the Bats). Last but not least, the pimps at Hydra Head came calling for sloppy seconds. They brought a bottle of Cristal, a pile of limited-edition colored vinyl and some Astroglide; pants were charmed down to at least knee-level, and nine months later, a misshapen fetus called Hell Songs was delivered by Andrew Schneider (Scissorfight, Blue Man Group, Cave In, Keelhaul).
Within seconds, it began sucking greedily at the teat of mass dissemination. It was an ugly little bastard, with an encephalitic head, and it looked suspiciously like the mailman. It shit its pants a lot, just like those goddamn art school kids, and it would not fucking shut up. So, like the socially responsible parents they are, Daughters sent it out into the world to become a twitchy, axe murderer/chronic masturbator type with a veritable laundry list of physical and mental deficiencies. Nobody hires fidgety miscreants like this anymore (not even Catholic schools), so Hell Songs returned to that wretched intersection, looking vaguely familiar to the locals, only sweatier and more viciously deranged.
Sometimes that bus stop becomes too much to withstand; sometimes he/she drinks too much and puts the lotion in the basket. Sometimes he/she forgets to take his/her medication. But that’s okay; there are some things modern medicine will never cure. He/she is looking at you right now, as a matter of fact, and he/she thinks you're kind of cute.