Overheard at a house party in Sacramento, California:
I’ll say … fuck yeah.
Who are these guys?
Turing Machine, dude. They’ve got two guys from Pitchblende, Justin Chearno and Scott Desimon, which was like one of the craziest groups out of D.C. in the ’90s.
Oh, hella, hella. Wait did you say? Touring Machine? ‘Cause, like what the fuck?
No, no, Turing Machine. It’s in homage to a theoretical computational device by this genius guy Alan Turing, who pioneered computer science and encryption in the ’30s. And he was hella queer in a time when people were, like, getting arrested for gay shit.
Yeah, fuck is right. These guys rule. I mean not as much as Shellac or Don Caballero, but in a similar vein — immediately gratifying and rocking, yet kinda arty-farty at the same time. Plus, they probably all look badass on stage, sporting thick-rimmed glasses and black jackets, huh?
Dude, that 1995 shit is so dead. I mean, I sold all my Pitchblende records to buy an original version of Amon Duul II’s Yeti last year. It’s all about the psychedelic Krautrock.
Yeah, angular post-rock has had its day, especially the instrumental kind. But these guys are down with Kraut. This record is called Zwei, which means “two” in German.
Oh, so it’s their second, I guess.
Yeah, Jade Tree issued their first, A New Machine for Living, in 2000.
Yeah, Jade Tree. As in Pedro-the-muthafuckin’-Lion Jade Tree. It basically sounds the same, except this plays up the whole driving pulsating angle of Neu! and takes it to a whole new trance-like level. Also this Chearno guy is playing with Panthers now, another Brooklyn group, and they had this engineer dude Steve Revitte help them with over-dubs on the record.
How do you know all this shit?
Dude, I am part of the Frenchkiss street team; they leaked the album to me cause I hung like fifty flyers for the Sean Na Na gig that rolled through here.
Whatever, their drummer and bassist both rock the shit. I mean they keep pounding out these heavy repetitive rhythms … and ax-man here is just flying over this stuff like he’s some whacked out Joe Satriani. Wait, wait … go back a sec. This soaring guitar on “Bleach it Black” here kinda reminds me of Tool emulating King Crimson, although in a more cheese-dick, crotch-grabbin’ way.
No complaints from the technical end here either. But you got to admit, it doesn’t sound like much out there.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Wait, did you just say it doesn’t sound like anything out there, ’cause what the fuck?
I was just testing you, dumb ass. These guys owe their post-hardcore instrumental sound to everyone out there, but I can dig it when they take it to that really overblown intense level, building it up like some giant fireworks stand about to blow. And the quasi-prog flourishes can be kinda cool, even if it’s still just quasi-prog.
I hear you, dude.
Yeah, hella quasi.
Oh, check out this last track, “Rock. Paper. Rock.” It has this disco beat — they could play this shit at Lipstick and I would rock it on the dance floor. Doots-tse, doots-tse, doots-tse, doots-tse…