A SHID SHOW

Let's be clear: YOU MUST catch Philadeplhia's finest psych-sludge blues-punk quartet the next time you get the opportunity. Don't miss a single note of fuzz-ed out buggery if you can help it, because no one does it like SHID. “Kill The Rich” is immaculate downtempo sludge that invokes The Stooges, and Wheredawine? is an all-out space-rock shred-fest. I told you, those dirty rockers in that SHID band really don't play. Every song is a different flavor of dirty bass, rolling drums, and squealing layers of guitar. The real strength comes from the versatility of that sound, a sound which SHID have indubitably made their own. I don't like to throw around the name King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard much, because the comparison is usually unfair, but SHID really do have a handle on their specific sound that's as tight as the great and powerful Gizz. The acoustic versions of SHIDs songs are just as good as the electric ones; filthy, cathartic and unwaveringly cool. Even behind unplugged instruments, the vocals and drums don't waver - the same violently risque vibe from the plugged-in songs remains intact. It all sounds distinctly SHIDdy. 

SHID have a pile of great live bootlegs on Bandcamp

Plus, "Call Me They" is the only song you've ever heard about demonic androgyny. Forget the recordings, though: the full experience of SHID is taking some elbows in the pit and watching their singer go absolutely nuts in the middle of the crowd mid-song or even mid-verse. Both times I've seen SHID live, their rythm section has rattled the entire block of the basement they've played in, like some vile ritual, cracking the earth to summon a crew of scantily-clad demons to join their Masquerade. A masquerade you should join too, if you know what's good for you.