This is a range of TISM mp3's for people who haven't heard any TISM or who have only heard stuff like Greg! The Stop Sign! They're in chronological order, and were originally intended to show the diversity of TISM's oevre... then I realised that I'd just picked comparatively obscure songs that I like and that weren't so topical they were outdated or incomprehensible to anyone outside of Melbourne's south-east, so they're not that diverse.
Lyrics range from extremely clever (Sex Tonite) to extremely stupid (Sid Viscous), so there's something for all levels of intellectual development. The main thread is that they all bring the rock - even the comparatively electro (There's Gonna Be) Sex Tonite is crunchy and satisfying. Enjoy!
I'm Interested in Apathy, Great Truckin' Songs of the Renaissance
Let's Club It To Death, Hot Dogma
(There's Gonna Be) Sex Tonite, www.tism.wanker.com
Sid Viscous, Best Off bonus track
[EDIT: I've just re-uploaded the Christmas specials from 2004, I Ain't No Christian, But I Believe In Jesus and Then The Answer Came.]
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3 comments:
A very good friend in college exposed me to TISM for the first time after he spent the summer in Oz. I only learned they'd disbanded a few months ago. Pity, that; if the preexisting members were bored or not getting along they just as easily could have replaced X number of members with other guys in ski masks.
TISM really are a fucking awful band, why anyone thinks otherwise is entirely beyond us. The infantile (ahem) 'humour' is just simply appalling & the music is fucking dreadful to say the least. The fact they hid themselves behind ski masks & balaclavas in order to preserve some mystique is almost as fucking pathetic as the so-called reasoning they gave for doing so in the first place (most of the original line-up being academics & college professors of some sort; one being a Philosophy Professor & International Baccalaureat thesis writer) in order to not upset their 'real lives' & endanger their jobs because of the lyrics & content matte of their so-called songs. How Rock & Roll.
Groupie fucking 40-somethings with no talent except for utterly ruining good CD plastic with a clattering blend of the most worthless shit ever spat out by anyone with access to a recording studio.
I'm deeply honoured that Ron Hitler-Barassi found the time to comment on my blog.
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