Mouthus are a two-piece noise-rock/improv group from Noo Yawk. "Wait," you may say, "doesn't NYC already have a similar group called Black Dice? Do I really need another group like that in my life? I don't have that many parties that need clearing out!" Well, you may be correct on all points, but let me offer up a case for this particular (anti-)musical monstrosity.On their previous two albums (neither of which is available on Amazon, I'm sorry to say) Mouthus pounded out a pure primitivistic howl of an almost astonishing level of freakishness. If other contemporary noise merchants (Lightning Bolt, The Locust, Magik Markers) sometimes seemed to be playing a practical joke on the underground music-buying public, Mouthus came off a pure mutants who didn't seem to know/care if anybody was listenting. As a sticker on their first CD accurately proclaimed, "Harry Pussy and Jandek mind-melded and got into a knife fight with some locals from the wrong side of the Lakota." A volcanic spew of guitar/organ/drums, they were like a pair of methed-out cro magnon mental patients who got too close to musical instruments. The CD's are almost field recordings by some poor misguided fool who thought "somehow, the world needs to hear this!" In short, Mouthus are F-bombing brilliant.The newest album (as of this writing), "Slow Globes," puts the band in a whole new light. While deep down I knew they were two relatively "normal" guys doing an "art project," on "Slow Globes" this fact is almost inescapable. While I guess that's sort of a disappointment (after all, there's only one Jandek) I kept an open mind and found myself getting wrapped up in their new sound, which at first glance is less abrasive than before--that's "less" as opposed to "not"--they are still, to put it mildly, not meant for consumption by the average pop music fan. The opener, "Storms," which I've read is a Fleetwood Mac (!) cover, is the most conventionally rockin' piece on the record, sometimes even threatening to develop into a "groove." It still hurts pretty nicely, though. From there, things go into more uncharted territory. For one thing, the angry storm clouds of guitars part a bit, allowing one to hear vocals here and there. Mind you, one still can't make out any words, or even what language those words are in, but this echoed chanting is a lot more clear than the caveman grunting of before. The song stuctures, if one may call them that, are also more delicate, sometimes vaguely resembling traditional asian music, as on the closer "scatterings." "This is My Snow" sounds like Black Sabbath sleepwalking. Under water. On Quaaludes. Mouthus are still more primal and atavistic than the Black Dice, but now they sound like actual members of the order homo sapien. Of course, these homo sapiens have used their larger brains and opposable thumbs to create a psych-rock album for a really bad trip. And that's a good thing, if you ask me.