Dark Meat is a seventeen-person ensemble from Athens, GA; and, fortunately, Dark Meat could serve as an approximate antithesis to the fleeting Polyphonic Spree. But, the band members do live together on a sustainable eco-field where everyone participates in farming duties and bio-diesel conversion. To an outsider, Dark Meat's living situation sounds like a mix between a Utopian society and a nearly cult-like existence. But don't expect this band to show up in clean-cut in robes or entirely set on stark attitudes and martyr like deprivation. Dark Meat aren't strangers to drug escapes and their live shows purportedly involve the use of projectile objects, which would logically ensue to a general ruckus (read: jolly good time).

Psychedelic jams, jazz bursts and tinges of blues create a moody, tangled album that if represented visually would represent Universal Indians as guttural finger paint. On the first listen, "Freedom Ritual" and "Well Fuck You Then"� feel a little discordant. The opening to "There is a Retard on Acid Holding a Hammer to Your Brain"� is almost teeth grinding and its theatrical reality will leave you wanting for more. This band is an accustomed taste: the more you listen, the better it gets.

Dark Meat is prime-example intrepid. Amid the slew of the seemingly ever-present formulaic rock acts, this band is a new sonic entr'e. The full sound of the guitars and horn section are enough to make anyone salivate. And luckily, you won't get any sense of pretentiousness from this musical collective. The chaos is premeditated: but lacking haughty aesthetics, it is downright fun.

In time for the inevitable "I don't want to do this anymore. Where is the warm weather?"� spring fervor, Dark Meat's Universal Indians is a great choice to put on, open a window and enjoy a cherished beverage with.