When they decided to name themselves after San Francisco's first openly gay city supervisor (who, incidentally, was assassinated), the members of Athens, GA-based Harvey Milk were apparently going out of their way to make their lives difficult. The same can be said for their creeping, low-end, abstract, often atonal noise rock, which generally proved so inaccessible and indefinable in its approach (was it metal, punk, alternative, who knows?) that each of their three albums was consigned, much like the band's short career, to instant cult status. A heap of contradictions jostling for position, Harvey Milk was at once the ultimate muso and anti-muso band, stubborn sonic bottom-feeders whose fleeting use of discernible melodies made them feel like precious gifts fit to cry over -- giving the Melvins a race for their lunch money in terms of challenging listening. Fittingly, the ironically named The Singles collects various leftovers, outtakes, and oddities (including a Peter Criss cover and a nearly unrecognizable version of the Christmas standard "Greensleeves") from Harvey Milk's original lineup, offering a welcome epilogue for this brazenly unconventional band's equally unconventional fan base to enjoy.
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AllMusic Review by Eduardo Rivadavia