HUG: God Gasm

HUG

God Gasm

© 2007 dojomusic (634479456657)

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A vast landscape of insanity, musical and otherwise. "Casio keyboard and fuzzed-out, guitar-driven erotic odysseys and oddities recalling Big Black's The Rich Man's Eight Track Tape." - Austin Chronicle

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notes

Hosing down the cosmos with Casio keyboard driven sexual fury, HUG spouts psychedelic, lo-fi, post-punk musick for the degenerate population of Austin, Texas. Having survived for over 10 years, HUG has regularly soiled a diverse selection of Austin nightclubs during that time including: Bates Motel, Electric Lounge, Ego's, Emo's, Hole in the Wall, Stubb's, Red Eyed Fly, Ruta Maya and Room 710 to name a few.

During the early to mid 80's guitarist Jack Hug played bass in the Washington DC, post-punk group NO TREND, who appeared on Touch and Go Records and Lydia Lunch's Widowspeak label. He's also known as "Gentle Jack" a man whose soothing phone voice can prompt even the most stubborn bowels to move with alacrity.

Casioist Scott Van Hug, who, out of the three band members most closely resembles a small, shopworn black girl, achieved fame and fortune as "Nova" in Rick Linklater's SLACKER. He also managed Austin band ED HALL during the 80's and did the artwork for their first two albums. Go ahead, ask him about his sex organs some time.

Vocalist Blair Hug spent most of the 80's perfecting devices and techniques for time travel by which the sporting gentleman may visit and orally pleasure famous condemned women, like that hottie Joan of Arc, just as they get executed. He also plays the theremin with HALO RINGS HER HEAD and HELIOS CREED and is the author of such paradigm
shifting literary masterpieces as "Deep Deep Space" and "Commode Decision".

HUG squirms in its cosmic embrace with the self-lubricating Larva God of Sodom, probing eternally for the next fix of undulating fleshy entertainment, or whatever's handy. To that end, HUG is currently finishing their fifth CD, "God Gasm", which will be released in February of 2007. HUG is also producing a DVD of live performances and nightmarish scenarios that will be released when it is sufficiently disturbing.

reviews

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  • A Hug can be a dangerous thing, inevitably you find yourself at a destination th
    author: AustinSound.net

    A Hug can be a dangerous thing - whether you attend a show or just listen to the CD, inevitably you find yourself at a destination that you never imagined…and not entirely sure how in the hell you got there. If you saw a warning sign that said, “a collection of heavily drug infected music...that reflects a severely messed up state of mind...AKA Sexland,”* you could have asked yourself several questions such as “what exactly is the difference between anal sex and a prostate exam? maybe they’re kinda the same, let’s go see” or “will being seen at one of their shows ruin any chances that I have for running for a political office? Maybe - sounds a little too dangerous to me.” They’re fair questions because in the world of Hug, things like a pee fetus, geriatric sex, and smoking pot for Allah make sense. It’s not like they don’t tell you what you’re in for. The primary topic for Hug is sex – and the lens through which it’s viewed is drug-addled. It’s an absolutely delightful journey that treats sex like a fascination as opposed to a commodity. Listeners are invited to be both curious participants and voyeurs. Hug may be that freaky kid who stares at you from the back of the room, but at least he’ll tell you what’s on his mind and see if you’re up for it. And it’s ever so much interesting when it’s an epistle as opposed to an epithet. And Hug creates some stellar sex epistles. The Hug-family is Scott, Blair, and Jack Hug plus two rather effervescent performance artists. The family-proper controls the keyboards, theramin, and guitars to create their lo-fi punk sound. The kin take care of on-stage bear-drag pseudo-masturbation and bountiful-woman strip teases. Just like their track “Picnic,” everyone and their stuffed animals are invited to partake of the cocaine, guns, and muffin tops. But even without the stage show, listening to GodGasm leads the listener down the same exact path—it’s as enchanting as it is eerie. So long as you find a certain enchantment in "Coche Bomba." Out of all the albums, (and yes, I own them all) God Gasm is the most accessible - it’s definitely the only one that the FCC must begrudgingly allow air play. Which is a ticklish irony since it sports more tracks than their other albums. Jumping into God Gasm is “Lifeguard,” a track reminiscent of the Frogs for all the genitals surgically added in the most unusual places to the singing lifeguard. “Victoria’s Secret” is absolutely brilliant in its simple perversity. Whether or not Hug was aware that Victoria’s Secret was actually founded by a man who wanted to see his girlfriend wear slinkier things remains to be verified, but Victoria, for all her love of come-hither-lace and satin - Victoria’s secret is her penis. And there the story begins a different journey south-of-the-border. In true Hug-fashion, Victoria’s Secret takes you to a place that you never thought you could get in 3 minutes. But like all good drugs, every dose is sweeter. For the first time that I can think of, Hug offers us a taste of their political leanings on God Gasm. “Smoke Marijuana” is a bouncy track that flips between reggae and rock but the main amusement is the call to smoke marijuana for Allah and for the USA. It seems like everyone would win on that one: a little more pot just might make world-politics a bit less strained. “Introduction” is a short and biting spoken word satire. In a voice harkening to a Civil War commander we are told: “Be seated. I want you all to remember no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country; he won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country…All real Americans love the sting of battle…The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.” “Don’t Shoot the President” is another political deviation but it rollicks along mainly due to the chorus, “don’t shoot the president, shoot, shoot the president.” Parse it out as you see fit. Hug has also made sure to coddle anyone who took the brown acid with two tracks composed of a perpetual chant of “nothing bad is gonna to happen to me.” It’s an appropriate First-Aid kit for a band who credits the origin of their work as the product of too much LSD. Most folks may not feel compelled to mention the intermission but good intermissions always make me squirm in delight. “Intermission” is particularly fantastic break in the 20-track God Gasm. I won’t ruin it for all my intermission-lovin’ peers but it is very fine, very fine. “Better than Meat” is a Hug confessional love song from their 1998 self-titled album that starts off with drooling for underwear and ends in a single line about cunnalingus. “Fucking a Fat Fold” worked for the Family Guy so there’s no reason to get testy or prudish about it now. It’s a distinctly funk-sound for a distinctly funky fucky topic. “Sexland” is a Hug version of a Barry White invitation: “You can come whenever you want, you can come for the rest of your life, welcome to Sexland.” And no matter what side of the fence you believe yourself to be on, it’s a compelling solicitation. Overall, I’d have to say that this is my favorite Hug album to date. It’s well worth the dough for the CD and if you ever get the chance, check out a show. Granted, GodGasm won’t make an appearance at my family gatherings, but if I ever need to weed out any cookie-cutter music lovers, Hug will be my first line of offense. *Combination of commentary on Drug Gasm & a song from God Gasm.

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