Album Review: "Split" by Band Of Pain vs Barn Jehovi Hot Pant
Alright, let’s dive into this wild little gem from 1995—Split, the collaborative effort between Band Of Pain and Barn Jehovi Hot Pant. Released on Bad Vibrations Records out of the UK, this album is a heady mix of experimental, ambient, industrial, and abstract vibes that feels like stumbling through an abandoned warehouse full of strange machinery and forgotten dreams. It's not your typical electronic record; it’s more like someone decided to throw a bunch of genres into a blender and hit "puree." And honestly? I’m here for it.
First off, you gotta talk about “The Entire History Of Punk Rock In 5 ½ Minutes.” What kind of title is that?! It’s cheeky, bold, and sets up expectations only to completely shatter them. This track doesn’t sound anything like punk rock—at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, it’s this glitchy, atmospheric journey that feels like punk’s rebellious spirit got fed through a broken synthesizer. There are moments where distorted beats clatter against eerie drones, making you feel like you’re eavesdropping on some secret underground ritual. I remember this one because it’s so unpredictable—it keeps you guessing the whole time, like, “Wait…is that supposed to be a guitar solo or just static?” It’s chaotic but oddly satisfying, like eating burnt toast with Nutella.
Then there’s “Everything Since... (We Know He’s Tempura).” Okay, first of all, what does tempura have to do with anything?! Like, did they run out of metaphors and just start naming things after dinner? Anyway, aside from its bizarre name, this track is hauntingly beautiful. It’s slow-moving, almost meditative, with layers of sound washing over you like cold waves at midnight. The industrial edge sneaks in subtly, reminding you that yeah, this isn’t just chill background music—it’s got teeth. But those teeth don’t bite too hard; instead, they gnaw gently at your subconscious until you’re fully immersed. You might zone out while listening to it, but when you snap back, you realize how much detail is packed into every second.
What sticks with me about Split is how unapologetically weird it is. These guys weren’t trying to make hits—they were crafting experiences. Sometimes it works brilliantly, other times it feels like you’ve wandered into their rehearsal space without knocking. Either way, it’s never boring.
And here’s the thing: if you handed this album to someone today, they’d probably think it came out last week. That’s how fresh and timeless these sounds feel. Or maybe it’s just proof that people in the ‘90s were already messing around with ideas we’re still catching up to now. Who knows?
So yeah, give Split a spin if you’re into music that challenges as much as it entertains. Just don’t blame me if you end up staring at your ceiling for hours afterward, wondering what tempura has to do with anything.
