Throwing sparks like two gigantic rocks grinding against each other, Los Angeles' LAMPS seem intent on doing things their way. And on every count, we're extremely pleased they do. Fronted by the unimpeachable Monty Buckles, the Lamps' music alternately careens, crashes, throbs and urges. This is mongoloid frenzy music. Are they paranoid, frustrated, or merely disgusted with humanity? The truth is usually somewhere in the middle. It beats me, but when a band has a dash of Necessary Evils
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