I have to admit, it's hard for me to stay awake through the Grammys--the glitzy celebration of the bland and the overexposed doesn't usually have enough bright spots to shake me out of the haze. And no, the Police reunion doesn't count as a bright spot--there are few things that'll make me flip a radio station faster than Sting's thin neutered-cat screech. RAAAAAAAAAHHHH-XANNE: Ice pick, apply directly to the forehead. Ice pick, apply directly to the forehead. Ice pick . . .
But here's a reunion that really snuck up on us: there's a new Throbbing Gristle album coming out in April. Were you eagerly awaiting this? I wasn't, until I heard about it. Now I am. (No advances.) Given Genesis P-Orridge's more recent "output" and personality cult (occasionally of one), I'm not sure I think it's going to be any good, although Chris and Cosey never went quite so far off the rails on the crazy train. And yet, the first pressings of the CD will be given out with "Totemic Gifts" in copper, bone, rubber, or wood, and I admit it: I want one.
You can hear a sampling at their MySpace page, and it's pretty hair-raising, monkey-cult, OCD-attack-sounding stuff. But they've never recorded anything half as annoying as "Roxanne."
There's a blank space on their web site where, just maybe, tour dates will appear soon.