I'm going to show you how to do it.

Welcome to season three fuckers. Yeah, you fuckers. Okay, we're bringing a New York energy to it. We're now in California.

Let's bring a Californian. Welcome to season three fuckers.

I'm Carolina Hidolgo. I'm Marcus Parks. This is no dogs in space. And we're so excited to bring a season three.

This season we're going to be covering experimental rock and pop winded season two in. I don't know.

Sometime before this season. And now season three has begun because we're going to experiment. We're going to get fluid with it.

We're going to have so much fun. I'm excited. I'm excited to know what noise really means.

It's goddamn right. We're going to be covering bands like Faust.

We're going to be covering 13th floor elevators, Bjork, Sonic Youth, all kinds of wonderful shit. And more, we haven't even decided all the bands

we're going to be covering this season. And in addition to the bands that are experimental on purpose,

we're going to be starting this season with a band that was experimental on accident.

Yes, because that's my favorite kind.

All right, let's get into it.

Now, one of the joys of listening to obscure music of the distant past is that sometimes legends can spring up around these obscure artists.

For example, it was rumored for years that today's band was made up of five GIs who'd gone a wall in the mid 60s

during the Vietnam War to record an album of Protopunk protest songs. Then they disappeared into the ether.

I don't know where in Cambodia they found a recording studio. But apparently they did.

I heard I heard most of the album was tracked in Laos.

Of course, of course, that's why it sounds so tinny.

Now that story, of course, isn't true because if it was, you'd have heard that story by now.

But the fact that people thought it was true for decades speaks to the unique power of the music this band produced.

Hell, that was the story I was told in 2007 by some guy I was working a fucking temp job with in a musty warehouse in New York

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