There’s some weird, intangible line that garage toes on occasion that might make some simply refer to it as punk. There’s, obviously, also punk that works backwards in the same way. But does the inclusion of an organ make you a garage band? Shhh. Don’t answer, it doesn’t matter as long as your band doesn’t suck. As for Acid Eater, many things can be said and figured about the Japanese quartet comprised of Yamazaki Maso, Toda Fusao, Miyaji Kensaku and Akiba, but probably no one’ll go and say they suck. Well, your mom might think so, but what does she know about any of this…

Initially beginning as a duo an expanding to a four piece, Christine 23 Onna eventually morphed into Acid Eater after gigging for a few years. The shift in personnel apparently prompted the group to incorporate more of that ‘60s style into its sound resulting in an indistinguishable blend of blown out guitar amps and sustained organ notes. It can’t be to everyone’s liking – and it shouldn’t be, the world would be a boring place if it was. But just hearing this band rip through twelve tracks on its 2007 Virulent Fuzz Punk A.C.I.D. should lead one to believe that Acid Eater puts on a rather frenetic show – that’s also probably an understatement.

Released on Time Bomb Records outta JP, the label dished out this vintage looking slab of nonsense. There’s no use in attempting to wade through the noise to reach the vocals – you won’t ever guess what’s going on even if you know the song titles. Acid Eater, while maintaining its adoration of garage, inserts a bit of psych weirdness – not too similar to Acid Mother’s Temple, although, that band seems to be a common reference point – and on “Drive to C.P.” the approach is ratcheted up to untoward levels. From the onset of that track and the never ending keyboard note that accompanies it, the song is all creepy garage as if Herman Munster fronted a twisted rock group. There’s no relenting here – the space ship noises should hint at that.

Each offering is a curtain of various turned up instrumental screeds with occasional indecipherable yelps and sound effects. My affinity for the title of “LSD” probably makes it difficult to accurately portray the track, but if there was a brief reprieve from all the noise, it’s here. That doesn’t mean the band gets wimpy for a moment, there’s just a more prominent lead guitar figure. That’s it.

Acid Eater doesn’t attempt anything new, too interesting or difficult, but is nonetheless able to lay down a clutch of entertaining garage related tracks aimed at the stoned masses. And because of the group’s approach to music it all works. The one drawback – as subtle as it is – is the fact that basically every track begins with the same yelping guitar fuzz making it a bit difficult to distinguish one track from the other. But again, this disc’s strong suit isn’t originality or breadth of influence, it’s just some nasty garage.