Brotulid (named after a mightily fanged species of fish) conjured another effective collaboration of electronic and visual abstraction. Guitarist G.E. Stinson and bassist Steuart Liebig have been ransacking each other’s memory banks for well over a decade, windman Andrew Pask’s association with them is hardly less familiar, and image projectionist B.K. Bynum is Stinson’s wife. The ghetto-capped Stinson and the hook-beaked Liebig share a love of big beats that’s rare in avant-glitch circles, and it really helps draw an audience in. Stinson generated some synthetic clatter-rhythms, Liebig funked into a grating groove, and Pask condensed the air with fast arpeggios on soprano sax. Bynum, meanwhile, splashed exactly the right kind of images over and above them, alternating black-and-white with color, splooey organic shapes with barely identifiable architectural images, flying birds with geometric kaleidoscopes. Stinson waka-wakked; Liebig bumpa-bumped; Pask noised loops to a mechanical climax amid visuals of electrostatic rain; tribal voices faded out to an auditory trickle of water. Inspired urban art, physical enough for the meatheads. Like me.
greg burk (metaljazz)