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Interestingly, while the album does a lot to establish Tobacco as a solo artist in his own right, it does so through calling attention (to a greater degree than any of Fec's past work) to the artists that might have influenced him during his formative music-listening years
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It doesn't take a lot to make old technology sound damaged and creepy. But taking the next step and making that creepiness sound appealing is what makes Maniac Meat the feel-weird hit of the summer.
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The songs are too determinedly distinctive to gainsay. But that mental sonic world that the music creates would be less intense, less encompassing, and listening would be less a transportive experience in the Tom Fec Dimension. Thankfully, this is Tobacco's world, and you can't trust your brain to determine mystery from madness.
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Maniac Meat is only really disappointing when compared to what came before, because try as it might, it can neither supercede nor outdo its predeces at it's own game.
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As opposed to the sometimes overwhelming whimsy of Black Moth Super Rainbow, admittedly conveyed more on record than on-stage, Maniac Meat is a glowering fuzzed-up sprawl.
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Not much has changed; it's just been both fortified and demented, buzzsaw harsh and woozily intergalactic.
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Under The RadarManiac Meat has some huge structural risks that might leave some listeners looking for the more accessible sounds of his more established band. But, in almost every case, those gambles pay off quite well with an unpredictable romp through a sweaty psychedelic swamp. [Spring 2010, p.66]