Yikes! Who invited Todd to this party? They're into extracurriculars like bonfire-jumping and re-enacting Dwarves' album covers; their fist comes out of you from the inside. Todd's self-titled debut (on the always reliably nuts Michigan indie Bulb) introduces itself like a frying pan to the side of your skull, then holes up in a decrepit single family home somewhere between Sonic Youth and sludge metal. Opener "Solid Gold Death Mask" brings in Craig Clouse's detached blare, not to mention two guitars that trade wild blasts like laser guns in heat. But the genius on Todd isn't in its maxed levels volume; rather, Todd follows the lead of 20th century metal explorers (Tad, AmRep stuff like Love 666) with songs that amplify via speaker cabinet and reveal a penchant for deliberate riff repetition, but also cultivate a subversive and subcutaneous layer of pure noise, often obtained through a bank of keyboards set permanently on "squelch." Other highlights include "Good Neighborhood," where a driving Motörhead riff is eventually overtaken by a woman's vindictive, emphatic chant of "What the f*ck have you done?," as well as "Sedan," which thrusts and jabs at the sleepy gods of repetition. Todd also includes six unlisted tracks that range from rough-hewn, half-formed experiments to re-workings of the official tracks' lead parts. Overall it's a relentless, visceral album that advances on the brain like an unscrupulous bone saw. Gristle -- it's what's for dinner.
AllMusic Review by Johnny Loftus