www.myspace.com/melktheg649

High Resolution Promo Photo 1
High Resolution Promo Photo 2

What is melk the G6-49? When people ask me I always tell them: it's the name of a troll or 'demigod' who lives in the Tokyo subway system. Which is a total lie. While we'd all sleep better knowing that melk the G6-49 was simply a reference to mythic Japanese subway mutant, this is pure fabrication on my part. A critic once hypothesized that it was reference to a bible-verse--Genesis chapter 6 verses 4-9. These verses deal with the Nephilim, the product of fallen angels breeding with human women. The sinful nature of these monstrous children precipitated the big Flood (with a capital 'F'). While the band-members would like to think that they subliminally intended to name their band after this particular Bible verse; they can't, in good conscience, concede that this is the definitive explanation for melk's odd nomenclature.

The truth is that, like their music, melk the G6-49's name is a Mystery in the traditional sense. It's a Mystery with a capital 'M': if you think you understand it, than you have failed to understand it entirely. All the traditional melodies and musical conventions have been stripped away leaving the bare bones of an epic hard-rock opus. It is relentless, it's loud, it's mathy, it's symphonic without being rigidly structured. I'm not sure that melk could properly be considered a 'noise' band, because this is not shapeless distortion. Beneath the pirouetting curlicues of feedback and the convulsive pulse of the drums--there is a geometry and there is a message.

[If you are pregnant or if you have been diagnosed with a heart condition you should consult your doctor before listening to melk the G6-49. The most common side-effects include headache (if ingested LIVE), rapture, salvation, arrhythmic heartbeat, and total brain-death.]

Mene mene tekel parsin captures the earliest stage in the evolution of Melk. With this recording we see the duo in their most introverted and uncompromising form.

The bass and drum duo have composed an album that comes off sounding like a Christian Marclay-ed Melvins 12" crossfaded with a Ruins cover of Music for Airports.

Like the texts of medieval alchemists. Post-apocalyptic math rock which kind-of sounds like the collapse of a biblical city.

If you could run an MRI on this album it would look like a brain in the grips of a religious seizure. The most common side-effects include headache, rapture, salvation, arrhythmic heartbeat, and total brain-death.