Air Conditioning - Dead Rails
Allentown, Pennsylvania's Air Conditioning is described as "thug rock" in the latest press release for LOAD Records. Confused as to what this actually is, I popped this release, LOAD's 106th, and let the surprisingly entertaining confusion wash over my unsuspecting eardrums. Air Conditioning's labelmates Lightning Bolt are easily the kings of the LOAD kingdom; that band's fusion of hyperactive guitars and frantic percussion warranted a level of acclaim very much well-deserved and has since seen many try copying the band's unusual dynamic. Always treading a thin divide between raw rock and outright noise, if Lightning Bolt is the raw rock son then Air Conditioning is the older, more abused brother who descended into a personal Hell of noisy misanthropy long ago.
This is all made highly apparent on Dead Rails. Fans of the band's earlier works (some of which saw the light of day on both Level Plane and White Denim) should know what they're getting into with Dead Rails---I know for a fact that Level Plane enjoys signing loud, heavy, and abstract bands pushing the boundaries of sonic destruction. Clocking in at thirty-three minutes and being composed of a mere four songs, Dead Rails does absolutely nothing to buck this trend. Sounding the entire world like peers and former tour buddies Prurient corrupting Lightning Bolt at a Fantomas show in Pandemonium, Dead Rails is an often messy affair splattered in as much gore as it is surprising catchiness. Opening mini-opus "Where to Litter/Trash Burning" is great proof of this; the song is a fuzzed-out joyride through realms of grimy noise and buzzing menace. Through it indecipherable vokills howl and moan, percussion rains down like a Indonesian Monsoon during May, and things generally sound pretty apocalyptic. Don't ask me how, but overall there is something catchy or gripping about the whole mess, as if the chaos were so all-consuming and grand one can't help but respect it. Offering a humming respite mid-song, things soon explode into an equally raucous assault mere seconds later, closing things out with a bang.
This momentum is (kinda) kept with "Conclusions/Concussions." Seeing as listeners are already half-way through by now, it starts to become clear that discernable lyrics or memorable hooks are few and far between with a band like this. Regardless, "Conclusions" has a sort of amplified-charm to it, like the joy one would get from a s***ty piece of old stereo equipment spontaneously exploding at a large party. The closest phrase I can concoct in an effort to describe it is the moniker called "robot rumba," a sort of mechanical rhythmic cadence sounding not unlike a bunch batteries recharging in your eardrum. The manic drum work flays your skin throughout the entire chaos, and leads into the soft sobering up that is "I Run Low."
"Low" is really just a kind-on-the-ears interlude before the disc's long-winded finale. A quiet and mellow throb pulses soothingly as a frosting of shimmering percussion glazes over the drama. Slowly but surely things crackle-and-pop into an ever-expanding drum clinic. Thick, meaty bass notes snap-and-smack as the drums fade in and out of consciousness. Though not a song per se, it is a nice effect, and leads perfectly into the finale.
Said finale, the seventeen minute monster aptly titled "Accept your Paralysis/Cephalexin" is almost beyond words. Like the majority of longer tracks, there is plenty packed into what is essentially a structure of expanding climax and eventual fall. Deep grooves of low-end feedback echo with sinister yet crushing patience, all while a hypnotic pattern of drums plays itself out like the lifespan of a collapsing star. Lasting just as long, the song slowly manipulates you into a haze of half-change and deceptive extra notes, always carrying the same overall rhythm. Confusing and sounding like an aural labyrinth, this song works more thanks to its enthralling hypnosis than anything actually resembling physical song-structure. Plodding and gargantuan, this is noisy doom sludge and pretty kickass stuff at that!
Loud, sparse, and disjointed, this isn't essential music by any means but fairly entertaining to let your mind wander too. The drumming is strong and surprisingly focused, the noise is very abrasive while still maintaining some semblance of tune and as for the guitars and bass, both are bone-shakingly low and feature all manner of unique distortions. In terms of the overall music world, one can probably do much better than this---as far as LOAD's catalog goes, this is the best from them I've heard in ages. Dead Rails is a short but sweet little jaunt through realms of trauma-inducing noise and frantic insanity, well worth checking out. Lord knows in a summer as hot as this, we need the coolness of Air Conditioning!
Tracklisting
1. Where to Litter/Trash Burning
2. Conclusions/Concussions
3. I Run Low
4. Accept your Paralysis/Cephalexin
Rating:
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