I Get My Kicks Above The Waistline Sunshine: A Noisy Mess Worth Your Time
Alright, let’s get this straight—Sarah Cathers and Sarah Bernat didn’t come to play it safe with I Get My Kicks Above The Waistline Sunshine. This 2005 experimental noise album is like sticking your head in a blender while someone cranks up the volume on an old synth. It’s chaotic, raw, and unapologetically weird. And honestly? That’s why it sticks.
First off, you gotta talk about “Thunder And Lightning.” Man, this track hits hard. Imagine if static electricity had a mood swing—it starts off all jittery, crackling like some busted radio signal from another dimension. Then BAM! It drops into these heavy bass drones that feel like they’re vibrating through your skull. You don’t just hear this song; you feel it. Like, literally, check your pulse after listening because it’ll probably be racing. I kept coming back to this one because it’s not boring. There’s no formula here, no predictable build-up or drop. Just pure chaos wrapped in sound waves. Love it or hate it, you won’t forget it.
Then there’s [insert second track name if available]. If “Thunder And Lightning” punches you in the face, this one sneaks up behind you and whispers creepy stuff until you start looking over your shoulder. The layers of distortion are nuts—like someone took broken glass, feedback loops, and maybe their cat yowling at 3 AM, then mashed it all together. It’s disorienting as hell but kinda genius too. Every time I listened, I caught something new—a buried beat, a warped vocal snippet, or what sounds suspiciously like someone laughing maniacally in the background. Creepy? Sure. But also kinda addictive.
Look, this isn’t for everyone. If you’re out here searching for chill vibes or catchy hooks, turn back now. This album doesn’t care about being accessible. It’s abrasive, messy, and proud of it. Listening feels like stepping into someone else’s fever dream—one where nothing makes sense but everything feels real.
Here’s the kicker though: buried under all that noise is this weird sense of freedom. Like, who gives a damn about rules when you can make music like this? Screw genres, screw expectations—they threw everything at the wall and said, “Let’s see what sticks.” And somehow, it does.
So yeah, give I Get My Kicks Above The Waistline Sunshine a shot if you’ve got guts (and good headphones). Just don’t blame me if your neighbors complain. Or if you suddenly realize how much fun breaking things can be.
