The 19-minute-minute-long set Harry Pussy played as part of a Siltbreeze package tour in 1996 was one of the most wildly thrilling sets of rock and roll that I heard all decade. At its end, singer-drummer Adris Hoyos looked like she'd run a marathon and barely survived. This 42-track CD which gathers together all of the out-of-print vinyl from their post-Siltbreeze days in all their distorted, dropout-strewn glory, is almost exactly four times as long as that concert, and if you play it all the way through, you're liable to feel as tuckered out as Hoyos was that night. But start it anywhere at random and let it run about fifteen minutes: after a good dose of the primal blurt of Hoyos's screaming and drumming blasting through the guitarists' trash-compacted, Beefhearty chord-clash, you'll more likely feel purged of anything that ails you and glad to be alive. HP's secret? They made good on punk rock's promise of rejuvenating abandon without giving in to its twin pitfalls of utter idiocy and suffocating conservatism.

Bill Meyer, Signal to Noise, Spring 2009