I Ching Gatos | Mysterious Mess

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Rock: Adult Alternative Pop/Rock Rock: Garage Rock Moods: Mood: Quirky
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Mysterious Mess

by I Ching Gatos

High energy rock'n'roll with humorous socio-political commentary for kitchen dancing.
Genre: Rock: Adult Alternative Pop/Rock
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. Sing the Mama
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4:17 $1.00
2. White Flour Tortillas
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3:19 $1.00
3. Nothing But Money
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4:34 $1.00
4. It's Not in the Medicine
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4:00 $1.00
5. Tequila Mockingbird
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2:55 $1.00
6. Bongo Joe
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4:19 $1.00
7. Maybe I Was an Apostle
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4:18 $1.00
8. Cuando Se Puede, Se Puede
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3:06 $1.00
9. Weapons of Mass Destruction
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4:25 $1.00
10. Suicide Bomber
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3:25 $1.00
11. Nothing Scares Me Anymore
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5:00 $1.00
12. Throwing the Ching
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3:27 $1.00
Available as MP3, MP3 320, and FLAC files.


Album Notes
Recording >
Aural Pleasure
I Ching Gatos: Mysterious Mess
Label: Nido Escondido Productions
Genre: Recording

By Jeremy Martin

Armed with the Nuggets collection and an off-color, multilingual pun that would make James Joyce jealous, I Ching Gatos have genuinely crafted a Mysterious Mess. First track “Sing the Mama” provides the album title but starts things off on a relatively subdued note. Guitarist and lead vocalist Joe Sanchez assures “I’m OK, I’m just in a whole lot of pain,” before enumerating a laundry list of modern-day bellyaches, from American Idol to the War on Terror. While most of the album’s songs conclude with exuberantly loud and sloppy guitar solos (think “Cortez the Killer” working against a shot clock) this one fades into an ambient haze. “White Flour Tortillas” follows with what at first seems to be a goofy, one-note joke (“Not like an uzi but just as dangerous”) but ends up as a commentary on culture loss (“Tortillas that my mama grande made/ We’d eat them around her table, it seems like yesterday/ Not even her house is there anymore/ We buy our white flour tortillas at the store”). “Nothing but Money” and “It’s Not in the Medicine” seem too excessively, unselfconsciously awesome to’ve been released anytime after 1979 (check out Joe Belk’s incontinent drum fills midway through “Medicine”), but “Weapons of Mass Destruction” and “Suicide Bomber” offer a one-two punch of current-ish political rhetoric that’d be easier to take seriously if it didn’t sound like the band were having so much fun.


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