Tweedle tweedle bwonk bang dwong dwong tweedle tweedle chugga eee chugga eee chugga eee skreeeeee.What the fuck did I just listen to?
No, I don't mean I didn't understand Chris Arp's raging noodle-wall of guitar voodoo, accompanied by meth-riddled tangental bass noodle from Michael Horn, and the almost mechanically precise drumming from Jason Bauer. I love me some technical worship, and of all the bands on earth (Even you, Origin), nobody defines technical-for-technicals-sake quite like Psyopus. What I mean by “What the fuck did I just listen to” is that, after each listen of Bad Senses, I completely forget what I just listened to... but I kinda think it was pretty cool... I think.
It could be argued that Chris Arp is the most technically proficient guitarist in the world, and I wouldn't disagree with that statement. It could also be stated that on this album, the single best technical bass and drum performances ever have been laid down, and I could see some merit in that assessment. The dextrous and precise way these three gentlemen display their dedication to their craft of instrumental virtuosity is self-evident, and anyone who worships at the Altar of Li or Malmsteen because of their callous-chipping stringplay has yet to hear this band. The ridiculously fast tremelo picking leads way to chunks of ether shot out at all angles to dissonant bits being played off of sections of the fretboard I don't think anyone has used yet, ever, all at light speed with barely anything resembling a break. Bass and guitar often play off each other like some off-kilter sonic game of Hot Potato. Snare rolls are ungodly-tight, and the variety of drum beats here is superhuman. The result? Caustic, alkaline hardcore and technical death interwoven and covered with an avant-garde sheen.
What's most interesting is the dynamics used on the album. Instead of quiet/noisy, or melodic/dissonant, or even fast/slow, there seems to be a gradient scale of just how fucked up they can make sections. The intro to “X and Y”, for instance, would be a weird piece for any other band to use in their songs... for Psyopus, it's the closest thing to sanity they get to on the entire recording. After that? Ever seen the movie Eraserhead?
What has been sacrificed to the gods in order for these people to play like this? Well, in a word: Songwriting. There are numerous bands out there who fall under the same umbrella as Psyopus. Behold... the Arctopus, Capsule, The Dillinger Escape Plan. All of them are noisy and inaccessible (to varying degrees), all of them have unconventional song structuring and tooth-chipping, immediate ferocity, but I can recall things from the other three. If I'm trying to recall something from Bad Senses, despite over a dozen spins, I have to put the album back on. And even then whatever I just listened to slides out of my head when I put something more interesting on.
Psyopus continues to amaze people by their ability to shred where no one has shredded before, and as long as that's their schtick I can see them continuing to be a novelty act. Listen to this album for the amazing skill, I recommend you do so. However, like a kid who can do six hundred flips in the air off of the uneven bars but is unable to stick the landing, I'm going to have to go with a...
Verdict: Indifference [5/10] (Whiz bang!)
3 comments:
This is how it feels when I listen to any of their albums. Gee! That's so impressive. You guys are far out! Like the kid in 3rd grade who used to have epileptic seizures during phys ed.
Next.
It's actually kind of diappointing. These guys have immense talent, and while the rhythm section will always be a rotating door, Arp is a fucking master at what he does.
But no songs to be found.
I found Bad Senses to be extra annoying because of the weird angst running throughout. It's been a while, but I remember some girl speaking that made it so much worse.
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