With Jumbo's Killcrane, Black Maria And Under The Sun

Michael Henningsen
1 min read
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Tuesday, Dec. 7; Launchpad (21 and over, 9 p.m.): Man, they must grow some killer skunk in Wilmington, N.C. There's simply no other excuse—no other likely cause—for the likes of Weedeater, whose Dixie Witch-meets-Lynyrd Skynyrd brand of bong water-soaked, Southern-fried swamp sludge will make you a believer, whether you're a stinky pot head or not.

Weedeater aren't just heavy. They're heavy and maddeningly slow—slow to grindcore specifications, but without the gore. They represent headphone escapism for a new breed of one-hitters-ain't-enoughers, and those who like their rock all hazy and blazed out. And if you're among the ever growing number of wastoids that never wash the one pair of jeans they own yet wear every day to their jobs as line cooks at Denny's, this bud's for you.

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