If you're fluent in Italian, please check out Piero
Scaruffi's history of the band...
Revolver Distribution Fax 12/6/96
"From the slash and burn explosive rock violence of their early singles to
the spin and pummel improvi-skronk of last years trailblazing
double CD to this, a dangerous mission in the covert world of
experimental espionage, counter-rock-intelligence, daring electronic
deceit and complete guitar interrogation (think dental). Fans
of the Skullflower/Total ilk would be advised to rendezvous immediately
as this disc could most certainly self destruct at any moment."
Washington Post City Paper 2/21/97
"Ever since its 'Cow Song' 7-inch exploded from Fairfax, Rake has occupied
an iconoclastic position in the D.C. music scene. After three
singles of flaming noise-punk, the band's debut LP, Rake
Is My Co-Pilot, was a perverse turn, gathering up sprawling
improvised rock, Moog, windy sax, and electronic bursts from an
old Simon game. The band's double CD Art Ensemble of Rake/Tell
Tale Moog vacillated between the two moods, lulling and
then shocking even the most patient ear. Intelligence
Agent (sic) blends these tendencies, placing the resulting
music-at least from 'PostScript.drv' on-in the realm of Richmond
or Louisville math-rock or improv rock (Slint, Rodan, Coral, Pelt).
But Rake, powered by Vinnie Van Go-Go's academic jazz-guitar chops
and a bandwide interest in out-jazz, is a strong enough unit to
produce interesting and individual sounds (think of Last Exit
crossed with Art Ensemble of Chicago). On the first half of this
disc, there's a seamless progression from the artier ebb and flow
of 'PunkRock Glo' to the seething rock of 'Chair Throwing Incident'-lead
by controlled drum pounding-and fading carefully into the electronic
tone play of 'B.D.B.,' where a riff worthy of considerable air-guitar
mileage signals that we are about to rock. It wouldn't be Rake
without Moog excess or drowned-out vocal screaming, but when 'The
Cosmos at Large' brings the noise together-earthy punk merging
with spiritual free jazz-the result is a dynamic, inventive proponent
of a burgeoning musical alternative."-Jeff Bagato
Collegiate Times 2/21/97
"Rake are an extreme unit of noise/jazz assassins from the nether
worlds of Fairfax; and despite the important aside that bandleader
Bill Kellum operates the influential VHF label, their newest opus
is a product of Blacksburg's very own Squealer Records, and their
most violently diverse to date.
Seemingly a contrived concept album about Special Intelligent
Agent Jack Kurtz, G-man is both an ode to Sonny Rollins
and the F.B.I., a valiant discourse on anti-music not nearly as
obnoxious as Harry Pussy and a million times more invigorating
than the average ensemble. From the annoyance of opening track
'10,000 KILAHURTZ tone', to the squawking radiance of 'Chair-Throwing
Incident', Rake manage to sound like they have more fun making
a ruckus than any other out-rock outfit. While the minions wax
cathartic with their legions of effects boxes and damaged guitars,
Rake reek nervous intensity, simultaneously recalling the energy-jazz
of Albert Ayler and the bee-buzz fervor of Masami Akita. Their
improvising process is distinct from many others thanks to the
overwhelmingly inherent talent of the lineup, and the sheer skronking
presence of an overqualified horn section helps make G-man
one of bizarro music's greatest new releases."-Jeremy Adam Koren
Mole Magazine #10
"Splayed out moog noodling burbles around like an impending thunderstorm until
the clouds get too thick and black and burst forth in crackle
and loud thuds late into 'B.D.B' and settle down to the soaking
rain of 'PostScript.drv.' From here on, cloud after cloud loosens
buckets of epic rock and super spoo that floods the competition.
Their best LP and a much needed coalescence of their broad and
dense noise styles."-Jeff Bagato
Progress Report #4
"Ridiculously overlong album by some Americans who go from improv guitar/synth,
to 'EPI' era VU drone, to neo-fuckery. Could do with cutting back
about half this material and honing it down to 40 minutes of improv
and/or one-glyph-chug, rather than the 802 hour marathon that
it is. They don't just pile on the sound, there's some fine awareness
going on here, but it's a shame you need to get through the mediocre
bits. There's nothing as whoosy as a track listing, but the better
tracks are the ones where they grind away for a couple of days.
Real sweet chug. Also a highlight is a peculiar recording of some
cops arguing about whether it's a misdemeanor to sell popcorn
or not at a show. He paid a 'buck' for a bag of popcorn, and it
costs 5 'bucks' to get in. We like stories. More recordings of
weirdo conversations please."-Hassni Malik
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