Dog Bone by Various: A Noise-Fueled Joyride That Sticks With You
Alright, let me just say this upfront—Dog Bone isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for polished melodies or feel-good vibes, you might wanna sit this one out. But if your ears crave something raw, chaotic, and kinda beautiful in its own messed-up way, then buckle up. Released back in 2008 on Anarchymoon Recordings, this electronic-noise gem hits different. And yeah, it’s noisy as hell, but there’s a weird charm to it that sneaks up on you.
First off, shoutout to Bob Bellerue for mastering this beast—he somehow wrangled all the chaos into something listenable (well, mostly). Lisa Bloodgood also nailed the photography; the cover art feels like staring at a broken mirror, which fits perfectly with what’s inside.
Now, onto the tracks. I’ll be real—I didn’t connect with every song here. Some of them felt like my brain was being microwaved while someone played Tetris with my skull. But two tracks really stuck with me: Rachel Ward and Soaking Food. Let me tell ya why.
Rachel Ward opens the album like a slap to the face. It starts off slow, almost teasing you, before erupting into this wall of staticky insanity. There’s a moment around the halfway mark where everything drops out except this eerie, pulsing tone—it’s haunting, man. Like walking through an abandoned house late at night and feeling like someone’s watching you. Weirdly enough, it made me think about old memories I hadn’t thought about in years. Maybe that’s the magic of noise music? It gets under your skin without asking permission.
Then there’s Soaking Food. This track is straight-up bonkers. Imagine a blender full of screws and broken glass set to “puree,” but somehow it works. The rhythm keeps shifting unpredictably, like it can’t decide whether it wants to dance or fall apart completely. By the end, though, it pulls itself together just long enough to leave you breathless. Honestly, I replayed it three times in a row because I couldn’t believe how much energy it had. It’s exhausting—but in the best possible way.
The rest of the album has its moments too, but those two tracks are what I keep coming back to. They’re not perfect, sure, but they’ve got this raw honesty that’s hard to ignore. Listening to Dog Bone feels like eavesdropping on someone else’s fever dream—a little uncomfortable, definitely strange, but oddly compelling.
Here’s the thing: albums like this remind me why I love music so damn much. It doesn’t have to make sense or follow rules to move you. Sometimes it just needs to exist, wild and untamed, like a stray dog running loose in the streets. Sure, it might bark at you or knock over your trash cans, but damn if it isn’t unforgettable.
Oh, and fun fact? Every time I listen to this album, I get hungry. Not sure if it’s the title (Dog Bone) or the track names, but now I associate noise music with snacks. Go figure.
