Three One G Records

Listening to Geronimo’s self-titled CD loud over a decent set of headphones can be life-changing, which is of course a word thrown around a lot, and a word that’s lost most of its meaning and helf, but climb into tracks like the 18-plus-minute “Firewater” or “Coyote” and you’re taken to places no other band will. The meditative repetitions of minimalist noise, rolling in slow like a storm over the sea, sometimes as heavy as an overcast sky, sometimes fluttering into harsh bug noise annihilation and screaming vocals or spoken chants, it’s beautiful and odd and powerful and it eats at your preconceived notions like a poison that’s actually good for you. A poison as tonic, as bullshit-cleanser. The key here is how the listening process changes you, how you come out the other side newly cored-out, sandblasted, cleaned-up, mixed-up, invigorated, refreshed.

There’s a thrill in witnessing something so unique, but there’s also the pure enjoyment of listening to this record because it’s fucking GOOD. It’s like a glorious weird meal or an unexpected chapter in an already great novel. This is some interstellar sci-fi mindmelting shit and if you give it your heart and your time it can change the way you see music; it can open you up to new ideas so revolutionary you might throw out half your record collection the very next day. The closest comparisons might be Crash Worship, Swans, or Black Dice, but why compare when you can listen to this record and make up your own mind? If you’re anything like me, you’ll fall in love.

Or you might hate it. There’s no accounting for taste, and of course noise freaks people out, darkness freaks people out, music that says, “Fuck all this” to traditional song structure definitely freaks people out. But you know what? It’s good to get freaked out. It’s healthy to have something sharp and bright come along every now and again and challenge your senses and your firmly-held perceptions of “What Is.”

This dense, beautiful, stripped-down-elaborate, wolfish, dreamy, nightmarish journey of bass, drums, and homemade electronics came out 13 years ago today and it sounds as fresh and vital as it did back then, and because it is its own animal it will ALWAYS feel that way, forever goddamn young.
– Adam Gnade (10/16/20)