Well, kids, I just went back and re-read my review for these guys' last album, What Burns never Returns, and what a laugh it was! Sometimes I just love to pretend to be a record reviewer! In my last review, I stated that Don Caballero was "creating cohesive songs from the cacaphony of frenetically beaten drums." Yeah, right! More like creating a goopy mess of my brain between my ears.

Well, here I find myself, living a Dilbert- like existence, not even given the dignity of a cubicle, forced to isolate myself the only way I know how: headphones filled with grunchy, mean toonz. Sure, sometimes I listen to porn MPEGs or NPR's This American Life, but when I'm given a particularly enervating task-- something like, say, stapling-- I like to put my head between the hairy thighs of Don Caballero. Sure, it smells a little funky down there, and all's I can hear is the pounding of drums upon my skull, but I like it. I see it as an expression against the machine of oppression, man! Yeah, oppression...

Don C., in case you've been too lazy to go back and read the earlier review, is intense, indie jam-rok of the highest order. Perhaps you've got friends that like to noodle around with offbeat guitar themes and love to hammer their drum sets without mercy. Perhaps they drink malt liquor and smell like clove cigarettes. Perhaps they stick sharp, barbed objects into their bottoms. Perhaps you have a very vague idea of what we're talking about here: jamming. Stinky, sore- bottomed jamming. Inspired, sore- bottomed jamming. Wikked, sharp, tight, sore- bottomed jamming. No lyrics, no mandolin, no techno beats or phat rhymes, just pure, glorious, sore- bottomed jamming. Thank You Jesus!

So, Singles Breaking Up (Vol 1) collects the band's EP and compilation releases into one, easy- to- use compact disc. Convenient, and perfect for the on- the- go individual, Singles has the texture you'd expect from such a collection-- lacking the overall continuity that What Burns Never Returns possessed, it serves to chronicle their progress since 1992, before they even released their first album, 1993's For Respect. Since this stuff is clearly marketed to instrumento-geeks and weirdos, I would suggest you take a large dose of Ketamine before enjoying. And don't forget to stick a sharp, barbed object into your bottom!