xbxrx

xbxrx
Un Usper
(Self-released, 2009)

Dude, this band rocks its name all lowercase. Not only that, they rock all consonants, too. They must be cooler than Allen Iverson’s cornrows.

See, you think I’m severely patronizing xbxrx, but I’m really just funnin’ them. They’ve been around for 10 years now, kicking up all sorts of burning, angular jams. I’m sure they can take my joshing.

[HITS PLAY]

Oh, blanket of noise. Envelop me. Scrape my flesh. Rip out my arm hair. Rash out my nether regions. Is this going to be one of those Metal Machine Music endurance records? Oh shit, here comes a chainsaw. That sucker sounds expertly mic’d. It’s probably some kind of guitar/computer magic. Curse you, GarageBand.

Sparse, prickly, obtuse jabs at punk. Tearing the normal structures apart like so much dried out Silly Putty. The riffs build to a release not unlike that of a mewing kitten, hungry for its first dinner of the week. The keyboard in “See Skies” is like a melodic swarm of rockin’ bees. How many animal metaphors am I going to make? The smart money is on four.

More noise with no purpose or agenda (aside from palette cleansing). Sporadic drum snaps are almost as bothersome as canker sores. Feedback, pounding my brain. Tells me to kill… Jim Varney? He’s already dead. Hey Vern, xbxrx are the pride of Oakland, California’s underground!

What a delicious guitar noise at the beginning of “Curso e Famine.” Like a gristly piece of steak. The song kind of falls into a void of clicks and hums after that. A riff comes back later, but it’s not as tasty as the initial offering. Dare I say it? I’m nostalgic for a guitar I heard less than a minute ago.

Oh god, the spastic drums on “Built Moments” tell me Hipster Grandpa is about to have a heart attack. He just found out that cheese he ate wasn’t vegan. Can his vintage Russian pacemaker handle it? What will it be like when the members of xbxrx hit 60 or 70? Will they look back fondly on their blast beats and distorted six-string mashing? Will they give in to polka and bingo? I’d like to find out. Unfortunately, I’ll probably be off-world when all that’s happening.

These folks don’t push the limits too far. They give you just enough atonal dreck, stopping just short of the point that would make you slam your face into a brick wall to make the Devil stop taunting you. The entire record is only 23 minutes long. Respect.

I wonder if xbxrx plays in standard tuning. I would guess not.

In “Senso di Calma”, are they whacking a washing machine with something? Samhain did that once on November-Coming-Fire. Nice call back, xbxrx, if that’s really the case.

Here’s a big fat pile of nonsense I honestly believe: If Gumby were in a post-punk band, I bet this is what they’d sound like.

If David Fricke were writing this article, he might say: This record is the logical successor to whatever legacy Athletico Spizz 80 earned with their great 1980 effort, Do a Runner. I wonder if David Fricke even knows Athletico Spizz 80. He must. He wears that leather jacket with such authority. David, I love you.

Back to the task at hand. “Fuck Your America” is not a cover of the 7 Seconds song of the same name. It’s an ending pastiche of noise, which makes this entire record a meaty noise-core sandwich on cathartic musical wipeout bread.

Un Usper is a download-only deal. Get it here and see if you agree with the preceding assholery.

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

Tags: xbxrx, Un Usper, Hawnay Troof