Ever see the symbol for infinity? Flat Can Co. has a sound that makes a listener think about the infinity symbol. The infinity symbol crumpled in the grotesque metal claws of a robot. Not one of the glossy robots in one of those fine late night sci-fi films. This robot is an unimaginable thing, dripping oil and unknowable fluids onto the floor of a shitty bar. Half human with bloody, pulsating entrails affixed to rusted metal. This robot-thing crumples up that infinity symbol and throws it into a trash can. The can is brimming with Xanax, vodka, Last Exit records, a tiny cardboard Flipper Tour Bus cut-out of their Gone Fishin’ LP, Greg Ginn’s damaged frontal lobe and beer...a lot of beer. The robot mixes up a brew that is ultimately anti-psychedelic. This is a sound grounded in the dirty stink of reality. A sound conjured from the empty belly of dying rust belt city. Flat Can Co. is free metal. Songs have no end. No beginning. There is only the infinite now in their music. Although, fucked and fried by a metallic beast-thing, Flat Can Co.’s roar can be felt in every empty storefront in downtown Cleveland. It is alive and it is grand. In a perfect world, Byron Coley and Thurston Moore would come up with more than a few funky adjectives to describe their sweet noise in their Cow Lips column in Arthur Magazine. But the world is not perfect. But Flat Can Co. nearly is...so take a few moments out of your busy day of downloading, private press psych records and sip some fucked, never-ending reality for a change.
Bill Dick from an article in Shanked Fucktard Noise and BBQ Magazine
The Flat Can Co. On MySpace
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