Beelzefuzz: Beelzefuzz

There was a glimmer of hope here. Or so I thought. I mostly got over the immediately repulsive moniker and really tried to give Beelzefuzz a chance. But I just couldn’t.

This Maryland-based travesty continues in the fashion of Bloody Hammers, Devil, and all those other retro occult rock retards who somehow derive cult status from their greasy bearded, flannel jacketed mediocrity.

The music: Unfortunately, outside of your average Roadburn poser who only shows up to be scene (typo?) and prove how much overpriced cheap beer he can guzzle down, the rest of the music world is not so easily mindblown by simplistic riffing, decent jamming, and your vintage Orange amps. I do have to credit the singer for beingmostly on key, but goddamn, after a song and a half, his vocals are like nails on a chalkboard. In fact, that’s what ruins it the most for me; the vocals are really just shit.

The moniker: The result of an intricate calculation? The name of a devil + a mass of fibrous particles = a stroke of tongue-in-cheek genius.

“Alright guys, I have Lucifurr, Behemuff, Beelzefuzz, or Nephilint…”

Their video: Watch it. Really. Maybe not the whole thing, but until you start to feel last night’s burrito coming back up. I feel like they wanted it to be some sort of nebulously spiritual acid trip but it just reminds me of wizard lamps and those wretchedly groovy mushroom candles from the ’90s. You know the type I mean.

If I had to offer up a second and more concise review of this album, it would be simply this: I strongly believe that the title of their song “Lotus Jam” says more than I ever could about what this is.

4/10: If the worst parts of Rush had an acid-induced orgy with Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats and Collective Soul.