Review Summary: I love that b*tch..
Hailing from Minneapolis, and hitching along with Jesus Lizard, Butthole Surfers, Killdozer and the like, Cows were an integral part of the great outburst of hectic noise punkers that came into existence and vague prominence in the US in the late 80’s. Never quite managing to crack through the underground circuit, even as Cobain started name-checking their peers as points of influence, the band stayed largely unseen, though in retrospect, their legacy was all the better for it.
Taint Pluribus Taint Unum, Cows’ 1987 debut was released through Treehouse Records, an offshoot of Oar Folk, a Minneapolis record store that in the 70’s became a hub for local punk kids, financing and promoting the budding careers of youngsters who would go on to form Husker Du and the Replacements. By the time of their sophomore effort, they had joined the rest of their erratic chums on Amphetamine Reptile Records, an imprint that would go on to champion Helmet, Jawbox, Lubricated Goat and God Bullies.
Unflinchingly loud, with tongues planted firmly in cheek, Cows were an apt embodiment of the restlessness and seething anger coursing through underprivileged Midwest kids as the country started entering Reaganomics full-on. Though not overtly political, Cows’ aesthetic sets mirrored the era’s more ideological bands.
Taint Pluribus Taint Unum is a buzzing cluster of combustible drums, filthy, spastic guitars that shake with electric reflux, and an insolently fresh trumpet to boot.
Early hardcore and the sheer volatility of no-wave all get nods here on short, head-rush cuts like “Plasma Pond” and “Mother (I Love that Bitch).” Closer “Weird Kitchen” even dabbles in stoner blues. But the heart and soul of Cows lay in traditional punk; relentless forward momentum and snotty screams. Songs come in two-and-a-half minute salvos, then peter out in time for the next round, before your ears have a chance to pop.
Today, Cows occupy a crowded and savage canon of unsung bands that people usually come around to discovering as they work back through old tour-mate rosters of Melvins and Mudhoney. After splitting up in ’98, a few members of the band would reform as the Heroine Sheiks, gaining a slightly softer edge and literary themes that at times bordered on convoluted. To those willing to plunge back into the darker, cobwebbed corners of the 90’s however, Cows’ tradition survives in all its primal viscera.
