Comet Of Any Substance
Full Of Seeds, Bursting With Its Own Corrections
Give a man a Walkman, and he can rock out until the battires go flat. Give him a synthesizer, and he can bemuse an audience until they look around nervously, not wanting to be the first to leave. This odd electronic project appeared in my inbox with very little of the press info or the band photos the usually accompany a new record. I was just lucky enough to get a graphic for this project, it’s the bluish blob that looks a bit like cartoon bacteria floating in a petri dish of agar agar. Clearly, this band is too cool for school. A grand total of eight tracks inhabit this earthly shell, all burdened with mystical metaphorical titles: “A True Order of Values, “After the Hidden Abode,” and my retro favorite “Semaphore Operator.” And like punk rock, the tracks are all short with most clocking in at less than 2 minutes.
At first the project sounds like modulated noise, undersea “found” audio, and a mis-tuned analog synthesizer. But there are rhythms, there are melodies, and watching my little win amp oscilloscope window show the group really likes pure tones, but they do tend to distort them. Sonar beeps, giants farting, a class on framing carpentry all float by in the ether surrounding me. I’m really into the drum solo (metaphorically) on “Semaphore,” this is the synth solo piece, its just shy of 3 minutes, and oddly, it even feels long. This album may be an acquired taste, it’s a quicky experiment, but one thing is for sure: It does NOT have a good beat, and you cannot dance to it.