by Nicholas Hubbard
If you have ever been epileptic you will resonate with Epic Fits, by bizarre London psychotics Pre. Before listening to this album wear a helmet, unless you want your brains scraped out with a pneumatic drill. Its effects are painfully anesthetic, like being tazed several times in the side of the neck. Sometimes—when you are nodding off at three a.m.—you crave such things.
Pre understands the appeal in short doses of mania. It’s as if they smashed all the grating, screeching bits of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Blood Brothers songs into the blades of a Cuisinart, then blended them on ear-piercing high for about 1:50. You would collapse after any more ricocheting around the room. There is very little chance of understanding what Keeks Matsuura is saying, even though it feels like her whines are boring into the most remote cavities of your skull. You don’t try to understand, ‘cause a good shake is fun, but your bones are only so thick.
More on Pre: www.skingraftrecords.com/pre.html / www.myspace.com/prepreprepre.