By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
If you've never owned a vinyl album, I feel very sorry for you. Plainly put, you've never actually enjoyed music in your life — you just think you have. In truth, your life is a decrepit bowl of suck, and you have no chance at happiness. Kill yourself.
One of the better aspects of records in their slab form is how much better packaged they are. Here's a good case in point, and we don't have to go too far for an awesome example: Kreamy 'Lectric Santa's latest output. Miami's pride, joy, and tears. Blending the lines far beyond the acceptable delineations of punk rock, hardcore, psychedelia, jam rock, freestyle, alt-hip-hop, indie, and God-knows-what-else, KLS has been a steady force on the independent music scene of South Florida for years. Even though the group relocated to Atlanta, then Los Angeles, and eventually the Bay Area, you'd be hard-pressed to find a local audiophile who doesn't think of the Kreamies as hometown heroes just the same.
KLS is one of the few native outfits that can pull a three-day stay at Churchill's and draw a crowd. Lead singers Sir Robert Price and Priya Ray have always surrounded themselves with the most extreme of SoFla musicians, so it's no surprise that on their latest release, nothing is sacred or taboo. What's really cool is the packaging for the new LP. There's a handful of flyers and stickers and a magnifying glass and, best of all, a CD-R with 40 tracks documenting field recordings, the excessiveness of lazy Florida nights, and intake valves. Drop a sheet of acid and grind to their version of "Me So Horny 2." I dare you. Or even better, platter up the turntable and get the CD player going at the same time for a swamp cacophony your neighbors will slice their wrists over. The Kreamies would approve, I'm sure.