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Oneida take such gleeful pride in their ecstatic rock head fuck that's it's tempting to take them on some other, more sarcastic level. Don't they realise that this heads down, amps-up-to-eleven stuff just isn't the thing right now? With eccentric pseudonyms (Fat Bobby Matador, Papa Crazy, Kid Millions and PCRZ) and a Brooklyn background that links then to the art scene and its club-snubbing loft parties, Oneida square up to be taken as some kind of rapturous role play: a heavy rock Gilbert and George, where the lines between parody and irony and art and reality are tangled and irrelevant. Irrelevant because, well, crank up 'Anthem of the Moon' and any pondering over notions of sincerity disappears in a soup of meaty riffs, trippy organ, and cod-mystical lyrics. It's not a question of them meaning it, man- there's not necessarily anything to mean. The only testifying going on here is to the gut-level punch of their brand of barreling, psychedelic, ahem, rawk. Their previous record was called 'Come on Everybody, Let's Rock' and, with Oneida, it's the only sentiment that matters.

Martin Williams
CWAS #9 - Winter 2002

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