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Big Mean Sound Machine - Marauders

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By: Joel Frieders
big mean sound machine, marauders, album review, funk, instrumental
Album Rating:

BMSM might be one of my favorite bands on the planet. With a horn section to kill for, a drummer that can put me in a beat coma instantly, and a knack for hitting grooves in a pantsless stride, they aren't easy to ignore. Even if you are a piece of shit with no musical taste and a penchant for using the word penchant.

Big Mean Sound Machine make music that's palatable as Fuck, combining funk nuggets with dub gluten inside of rasta pasta on the corner of a jazz avenue I can not only enjoy, I would baste my shirtless self in their steel meals on a daily basis if given permission. And if that previous sentence is confusing, you try describing how fucking disgustingly erotically inspiring they make you feel.

Putting in their latest album Marauders is like throwing a sepia toned filter on your worldview, where everything is retro comfortable. It's the shit you can't assume was recorded last month, because it oozes that feel of being recorded in the late 70s. Crime drama soundtracky with furry upper lipped and chin strapped good guy/bad boy coppers sliding over the hoods of Chevys where they never scratch the paint or clock their shins on a quarter panel. Everything feels intentional yet relaxed.

Big Mean Sound Machine are a brass cult of fucking smooth and I triple dog dare you to fall out of any of the fat bottomed pockets they lay the Fuck down.

Take the track Big Time for example: a rhythm you could impregnate a pigeon toed nun across the midwest with, laced with a synthed out patience you couldn't exchange a handjob to a priest with. It's fucking fantastic. It even comes complete with the sounds of a bare chested karate beefcake walking through a doorway decked out in a set of wood beaded drapes it's so funking confident.

The entire Marauders album is fucking monstrously smooth, keeping the vibe perfectly intact while emphasizing their brass bravado like a freshman in high school stuffs her bra and/or crotch with a few rolled up socks. They don't necessarily need to stuff, but holy Fuck it sounds tits/balls.

Buy this, and don't suck.

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