You know that guy who shows up sometimes, the one people call the gnome? He is the short man, whose walk is stiff and is over-clothed. His hat is too low and it falls onto his sunglasses. His beard though is what gives him the name but given the shade of black, perhaps he should be called the anti-gnome. Whatever the case, I am pretty sure that people do not call him that to his face. To be sure, the gnome is exactly what he looks like: a drug addict and a drug dealer. It is hard to forget the day when he pulled a knife on the middle-aged waitress at a local cafe. The nicotine stained hands, the hiss from between the lips and that small, sharp, nasty little blade. Whenever he showed, I could feel the bile surging through my gut.
Jason the Dragon is like being friends with the gnome. It is a window onto a monstrous low frequency, pot poisoned Black Sabbath love in. And yet, unlike so many of their peers just at the precipice of descent into total despair a la Eyehategod or Grief, Weedeater pull back with a gap toothed, chewin’ tobacca coloured smile in time to let you know, “it’s just rock and roll baby.”
Jason the Dragon, with raw as chafe, performance-as-take Albini Production and sleepy Arik Roper cover art is available on vinyl from Southern Lord and various retailers for $15.
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