The far out sociological study that is Washing Machina with social commentary strumming in tune with its own cadence, is a polished and creative force-of-nature. Think Le Tigre, The Raincoats and Jad Fair, their music is both subversive punk and leaning towards a post-punk sound without missing a beat.
The laundromat sound a la the Breeders (Last Splash) as we shift our gaze on the crunchy, raunch of guitars and the mesmerizing vocals that circle back and forth like Aztec gods and goddesses is a messy entanglement (in a good way)- One wrestles with the volcanic breath siphoning the noise and blowing the black air back into the atmosphere.
The trail of lost hands in the airy night moving at the speed of thought quivering with supernatural deft like so many reclusive sadhus in the temple of Himalayan caves, we hear Washing Machina and are washed by the moon, the earth particles, its essential qualities moving like invisible nodes from our ancestral limbs.
Washing Machina’s “Perfect Misfit” is a glacial work, massive in its qualities as though there were no end in its mass. An almost magic and youthful collection of songs that are pilot flames in the daydream nation. It’s very reminiscent of Sonic Youth’s collection with its raucous-like vibe and incendiary voidness that fills the room with moodiness and cluster-noise like an alarm waking the entire house.
We are hearing Washing Machina do what was done decades ago and in many respects they are very unique and timely. There’s an event happening in the secret rooms of basements and attics. Washing Machina’s “Perfect Misfit” is an unknown anthem sewn on the lips of the unseen, forlorn, and passed-over, there are few we see who are not up to the planet’s higher ordering. Give Washing Machina a listen, it’s a good time and a long gaze into what we often find hard to grasp in music collections.
Written by Hari Palacio
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