The Cat’s Orchestra is a junkyard priest. Whatever it uses becomes holy, imbued with purpose. What ‘Coffee Killer Cassette’ does is use everything within grabbing distance. Oddly tuned guitars, assorted electronics, far-off vocals, percussion made up of hitting can, it is all here is presented in a shaggy dog, bohemian style.
Whenever you think you have this album figured out, it throws yet another stylistic curveball. I kept on trying to find my way around what was going on. Lo-fi, noise, and post-folk came together leading to the question: what exactly is going on here? There is an answer: I have no idea, and I’ll say that with the greatest smile on my face. Most of the time it didn’t feel like one album, it felt like several cramped into a rather small space.
‘Coffee Killer Cassette’ isn’t a particularly long album. Thirty minutes long is painfully brief. It’s virtually bursting at the seams with so many ideas. At times it channels warped jazz “cafe Eshta Cuper”, other times poor fidelity noise rock “Vortex” (which is oddly the most recognizable thing on here).
What brings all these odds and ends together is an odd cinematic feel to the proceedings. Listening to them I’m reminded of a deeply strange, animated adult cartoon, one of those things IFC occasionally blesses us with, full-blown, all-out strange goings-on. That’s what I feel when I listen to this album. Trust me when I say you’ll rarely encounter something as unique as Coffee Killer Cassette.
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