If you’ve been living under a rock or something for the past couple of months, and haven’t checked in with your favorite bougie media outlets such as NPR‘s Fresh Air (seriously, Terry Gross is the worst!) or the New York Times, you may be unaware of Death. Since I couldn’t place this review anywhere, better late than never:
In some sort of alternate universe, bands such as Death rule the classic rock airwaves, and lamers like Aerosmith are relegated to the dustbin of history. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but weirdly enough, back in 1974, Death might’ve been the next big thing. These three brothers from Detroit Rock City, who sold their 7” single “Politicians In My Eyes” from their garage, were supposedly feted by record industry mogul Clive Davis. The story goes that since they wouldn’t change their decidedly un-commercial name, Davis passed, and the trio became just another “what-if?” story. Until this year, when the venerable Chicago label Drag City reissued their entire recorded works, a scant seven songs (including afore-mentioned single) recorded at the same Detroit studio where Funkadelic laid down their classic jams. While nothing like George Clinton’s renegades of funk, Death shared a similar modus operandi, in that their assimilation of whatever music was at hand gave them the ability to create their own original style. …For the Whole World To See is a fascinating mix of proto-punk aggression, 70s metal virtuosity, and only-in-Detroit grit.
Order Death’s …For the Whole World to See from Drag City.