I don't really get how they do it. I hate all the ingrediënts - an overload on keyboardtunes, anachronical 70ies vibes, spastic nonsense and stupid long songtitels about trains, drugs, chickens and whatnot - yet the final recipe manages to send shivers down my spine over and over again. Take for example the part in 'Mescaline Eyes', where the music comes to a sudden halt and Snere yells '..and in all there's nothing left' over the unexpected opening abyss below. Or the machinegun-bass that kickstarts 'The Shit Sisters'. That's only what I can recall from the top of my head right now.
The first time i saw them live was two summers ago at the Flufffest in the Czech Republic. It was the evening of the last day. Almost three days of good and bad hardcore, dirt, filth and laughter had gone by, the sun was setting and there was this orange hue all over the place. Some member of the band had stepped into some dogshit, and by the time the second song started, the stage was covered with it, with the singer rolling in it shirtless. How's that for intensity and punk-spirit, you designercrusts?
These Arms Are Snakes is one of those rare bands that makes me want to dance and singalong when I'm listening to them on any kind of public transportation, or that makes me want to halt strangers and say 'listen to that part right here! Isn't that just fucking genius?'. Luckily, shyness is my saviour.
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