FREE IN-STORE PICKUP, AND FREE SHIPPING ON PURCHASES OVER $100 IN THE USA!
Oh Sees

Face Stabber

$29.99

Shipping & Pick-Up

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We offer FREE shipping on orders of $100 or more. All media orders (vinyl/CD/cassette) will ship via USPS media mail. Please be aware that we cannot provide free multiple shipments for a single order, so if your order includes pre-order items, the entire order will be held until all items are in stock and ready to be shipped.

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FREE IN-STORE PICKUP

If you are local, we offer FREE in-store pickup on online orders.  Please note, however, that using Apple Pay at checkout will auto-fill a shipping charge and will not allow you the option to choose free in-store pickup. In other words, if you wish to choose free in-store pickup at checkout, you must checkout without using an accelerated payment method like Apple Pay.

Hey there, human kids, lift your face out of the feed trough and pluck that feculence from your ears. Hark! A sonar blip from beneath the pile of bodies-the latest Oh Sees, Face Stabber! Boop, blip, ughhh... people churning like a boiling swamp. Man, this din is nauseating. The screen flickers for the first time this year with a transmission from two months in the future: "the internet has deemed guitar music dead and you are free to do whatever the f*** you like... long live the new flesh!" This album is Soundcloud hip-hop reversed, a far flung nemesis of contemporary country and flaccid algorithmic pop-barf. No songs about money or love are floating in the ether. Just memories, echoes, foggy blurs, blip-blop goes the scope, heavy funk, dystopia-punk canons, long jams, bloated solos dribbling down your caved-in chest. Human cattle like a beef avalanche, right on your burned out face hole. Spider-legs fuzz crawling in your brain. Lots of curse words for your mom. You've gotten the over-population blues, so let's have some art for art's sake. What else are you gonna do? Stare at the sky? Please... fifty carbon copies of you look back at you as you walk the streets. Take a breath, you're going to need it. Take drugs, you're going to need those just to stand in line at the air and water reclamation center soon enough. There's no fruit, buddy. You're at the bleak-peak. They will squeeze you till you're all squeezed out. Or fans of fried prog burn-out, squished old-school drool, double drums, lead weight bass, wizard keys (now with poison), old-ass guitar and horrible words with daft meanings. If you don't like it then don't listen, bub. Back to the comments section with you! Easy over and out.

UPC: 767870657719

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Oh Sees Face Stabber album cover art
Oh Sees

Face Stabber

$29.99

Hey there, human kids, lift your face out of the feed trough and pluck that feculence from your ears. Hark! A sonar blip from beneath the pile of bodies-the latest Oh Sees, Face Stabber! Boop, blip, ughhh... people churning like a boiling swamp. Man, this din is nauseating. The screen flickers for the first time this year with a transmission from two months in the future: "the internet has deemed guitar music dead and you are free to do whatever the f*** you like... long live the new flesh!" This album is Soundcloud hip-hop reversed, a far flung nemesis of contemporary country and flaccid algorithmic pop-barf. No songs about money or love are floating in the ether. Just memories, echoes, foggy blurs, blip-blop goes the scope, heavy funk, dystopia-punk canons, long jams, bloated solos dribbling down your caved-in chest. Human cattle like a beef avalanche, right on your burned out face hole. Spider-legs fuzz crawling in your brain. Lots of curse words for your mom. You've gotten the over-population blues, so let's have some art for art's sake. What else are you gonna do? Stare at the sky? Please... fifty carbon copies of you look back at you as you walk the streets. Take a breath, you're going to need it. Take drugs, you're going to need those just to stand in line at the air and water reclamation center soon enough. There's no fruit, buddy. You're at the bleak-peak. They will squeeze you till you're all squeezed out. Or fans of fried prog burn-out, squished old-school drool, double drums, lead weight bass, wizard keys (now with poison), old-ass guitar and horrible words with daft meanings. If you don't like it then don't listen, bub. Back to the comments section with you! Easy over and out.

UPC: 767870657719

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