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Second outing from this Pittsburgh quartet, one which continues to break ground merely by following their own musical passions instead of kowtowing to any manner of prescribed notions for modern, youth-approved independent music. Their influences reach back into the barren deserts of the late-’80s diaspora, when bands started moving outwardly from stale punk and alternative tropes and got greased on a musical fluidity once forgotten (see bands like Mofungo, Saccharine Trust … well, let’s face it, a lot of the mid-to-late SST bands that were firmly on the second string and didn’t outright suck), bent with the interlocked yet asymmetrical guitar dynamics of Sonic Youth or Polvo, atop an arid psychedelic vista once visited by the Dead. From up there, you can see a long way out. Dwell on that as these four songs combine the above concepts with a rhythmic propellant worthy off Watt and Hurley getting linear, of African rhythms gently tugging at the sides of each track, and of your very concept of a jam band tightening up and playing around with some much-needed restrictions. There you will find the centipede, crawlin’ out west. Blows their first CD right off the map, and shows more outright, untapped potential than just about any band on the touring circuit. That they have no gimmick forces audiences to pay attention to the intrepid nature of the musical interplay, and surely you will find that this group houses one of the finest rhythm sections nobody knows about. They’re the kind of band you can’t help but root for; their ideas are so refreshing and ridden with earworms that categorization becomes a moot point. Here’s a band that knows what to do with an influence, and how to make it their own instead of just smashing a couple disparate sounds together and calling it a day. Put your hand on this one and feel it. Edition of 300, beautiful mastering job and abject clarity. Nobody needs this more than you.
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