Saturday, 13 September 2008



For what should be the alternative rock release of the summer there has been little (perhaps even no) real fanfare to celebrate the return of the colossal short man David Yow. At a time where the stage diving, cock wiping antics of Mr Yow look lost to the (rock) ages his muted return with California’s Qui initially caused much to be excited about and a true opportunity to dare to dream. So where are the parades?

If you were going to marry one rock front person you would have to be a pretty tolerant and special person to take on the Yow and that is just what has happened with the boys of Qui. Surprisingly going to the new(ish) Ipecac as opposed to Touch & Go, the marriage in itself seems reflective of the manner in which Yow often indeed at times sounds like Patton on this record (especially on tracks such as “Gash”).

All good things have to start as the open out in subtly metallic fashion that suitably houses the vocal stylings of the great. Obviously the natural desire, leaning and tendency is immediately to compare them to The Jesus Lizard and successfully all persons involved have managed to create something that sounds fresh, original and different. In other words they have not fallen down a mineshaft and into a trap. In comparison the music is less oppressive but not less effective as it strolls out display more math rock tendencies without diluting the impact.

It doesn’t take long to get good as “Today, Gestation” compliments all features, admittedly managing to sound like The Jesus Lizard devoid of a bass player. Who can fault something when it sounds so menacing though? Listen to the words and you sense life ain’t getting any better. Him and his demented scat.

More frenetic guitar follows on “Gash” and “Freeze” as schizophrenic patterns of playing lend a disorientating sense to proceedings as minimal verses erupt into chaotic choruses akin to the sound of a mad man chewing up the furniture.

At times the band remind me of Drive Like Jehu before switching gears as the sound becomes too comfortable and resuming some kind of spiteful air of distraction, in essence purposely plundering the momentum in its track. You sense really you are not supposed to be enjoying this band and in order to survive you have to earn your stripes.

With “Willie The Pimp” it reaches some kind of insane peak as all individuals involved collectively and individually sound truly demented. Then as per form “Belt” strikes as some kind of calm beyond the storm prior to tearing in for a second assault.

Then the album appears to die on closing track “Echoes” as they explore one another in a disturbing fashion. It’s a dirty ending.

Peaks and troughs. Peaks and troughs.

Thesaurus moment: stepdad.


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