Some press has hit already, like in Time Out Chicago and Tiny Mix Tapes. Check it! We promise, it’s positive. Don’t be scared.

Like the “Torrid Sex In East Berlin” 7″, this is out on our own Licking River Records and distributed exclusively by Drag City.

JUNE 2010

on LICKING RIVER RECORDS.

Mass Shivers
Torrid Sex In East Berlin
Licking River 7″
Chicago trio who specialise in a pummelsome free rock that makes me thing of a slightly more Metallic version of the early Sun City Girls, shorn of Eastern mysticism. Flashing through all manner of post thug promise, this is quite lovely.

Something good did come from 2009, however, and that was the first vinyl release on our own label, Licking River. The “Torrid Sex In East Berlin” b/w “Tickled On Poppers” 7″ was quietly released over the summer and distributed by Drag City. As word got out, some hype/rave press came in from the likes of  Wire magazine, as well as from Dusted online. I’ll post those in a bit.

We’re also selling these “Torrid Sex In East Berlin” singles at our web store, on this very here site (look to your right, bub! Click on the horse-muscle on gold image, or where it says ’store’). “Torrid Sex In East Berlin” b/w “Tickled On Poppers” is the first real deal recording we’ve given to the world that showcases our new,  trad power-trio instrumentation. Guitar, drums, and bass, just like all your favorites– Groundhogs, ZZ Top, Rush, Cream, The Experience, Henry Grimes, etc. Shit is heavy! On beautiful, clear-gold vinyl. And, it’s the only time you’ll be able to hear “Tickled On Poppers” on record– possibly the heaviest Mass Shivers song of all time. This 7″ is a prelude to the new full-length coming out this spring!

Across the street from the Payless of Wayne’s World fame (Bohemian Rhapsody scene).

En route to New York for our second show, however, we had a nasty accident. In the middle of  a monsoon-ish rainstorm on I-80, somewhere near State College, the van hydroplaned and spun out, slamming ass-first into a rock wall at the base of a mountain. The van bounced after impact, splitting the front axle, and landed facing the wrong way in the middle of the highway. I can’t remember for sure, but I think we did a 540 degree spin all together– hitting the wall at the 270 degree point. Thankfully, we didn’t roll.

The three of us jumped out of the van and assessed our bodies for damage– Sean was the only one that appeared to be injured, with a big cut in his lip (which required stitches) and some chipped/loosened teeth; other than that the three of us were mostly bruised, with some muscle strains.

The amps, guitars, drums, and our belongings were a complete mess in the back of the van, and water poured in through the smashed windows upon them. It was pouring, freezing, and there was no room to reorganize things in the van or assess any damage– besides that, the van was not a safe place to be with semi-trucks barreling towards it at 70 mph (amazingly, it seemed like the trucks on the road went faster during the storm than they would have during calm weather, go figure).

We had to chase down gear and records that were strewn about the highway immediately after the crash, and were soaked to the bone within a couple minutes. Some people stopped to help and provide shelter in their cars, which was incredibly nice. Ambulance and firetruck soon arrived, as well as a cop who took a report. The firemen threw a tarp over our gear (still in total disarray– the status of it a mystery), they ran physicals on us in the ambulance, and we were taken to the hospital to get checked out. The van was towed to a shop in a neighboring town, with all our gear and some valuables still inside…

Everyone checked out at the hospital, Sean’s lip got sewn up, and we took a cab to a motel. Couldn’t find a single place to rent a van– so we decided to give it up til morning. Called the garage and made sure our totaled van was secure for the night. The next day our van rental search proved equally difficult, and we ended up having to rent a u-haul. Walked a few miles to the u-haul joint and drove to the other town to recover our totaled van and gear.

When we arrived at the garage, we found our van sitting outside, on the bed of a tow-truck. All our gear was still inside. The digging began. Pulled out the guitars… and miraculasly, they survived! Those cases held up. Drums seemed pretty ok, too, and then so did the amps, except that the bass cab appeared to be severely water-logged. All in all, we came out a lot better on the gear front than we had anticipated. A few bent rims on the drums, a couple dented pedals, and one bass amp with some loose electronics equals quite a survival rate. I even saved most of 7″s we brought for tour merch by discarding the wet print, drying out the bags, and wiping down the vinyls before putting them back in the bags.

Anyway, the whole thing was traumatic and exhausting, and we were feeling it hard, so we drove home and canceled the rest of our shows (left our totaled van at the garage). Apologies to anyone who reads this and who also came out to see us and couldn’t– we are extremely bummed to have missed you, as well.

The accident was simply a terrifying experience, one that’s difficult to articulate.

So anyway, the next night, Saturday, we went up to London, Ontario, and played this arts co-op, the East Village Arts Cooperative (EVAC), and had a fucking blast. Excellent folks run this place with patience, enthusiasm, hope and hospitality, showing visual art and music in the same building. They pack in the kids and leave bad vibes at the door. Props to them.

It was a total heavy crowd scene, people sitting all the way up at my mic stand listening attentively. We played fewer songs than usual but jammed them longer, getting kinda hypnotic and out there in the audience. I later heard people wondering out loud how it was possible I could swing my guitar so close to these guys’ heads without decapitating them. I just thought it was funny that no one moved when I jumped at them, but apparently it was because people were in awe (’tis what people told me later, unsolicited), not because they were bored. I guess I believe them, since they bought tons of merch afterwards.

That’s the thing with all the Canadians we encountered– every single one was ultra friendly to the point that if they were American, one would assume they were fucking with us. And they really do say “Eh” after every sentence. Perpetuating the stereotype just as I must when I say, “dude” or, “awesome.” Perhaps the funniest moment occurred when we were driving back to the co-op after making a beer run: while sitting at a light, in the driver’s seat, my head resting on my hand attached to my arm which was resting on the window sill, some kids drove up beside us, chuckling. The passenger (the one closest to me) was laughing and looking at me, simultaneously rolling up his window. 30 seconds later, right before the light turned, he rolled the window down, big smile on his face, and started pantomiming the sucking of a big cock. I laughed and pointed, to which the kid replied, “you like that, EEEEHHHH?” His “eh” was all big and exaggerated. Hilarious.

Oh yeah, the EVAC people claim to have served us Pad Thai with Meth in it. Ask them. Ontario is the Meth capital of Canada. Toothless wonders everywhere…

-Sova