Somewhere between the bizarre and twisted lies the band known as Mahjongg. This rather intriguing band sound like the aural equivalent of what would happen if the worlds supply of Casio keyboards revolted against mankind. If that sounds like a terrifying proposition, it is. You see Mahjonng throw all sorts of music at a wall and hope that it all sticks at the same time in the same spot.
As if to prove their point, their latest album Kontpab establishes grooves and then breaks them up into tiny little pieces and then wraps them up with guitar noodlings, wandering vocals, and sporadic drum beats that sort of make sense. It's a disjointedly entertaining record because it's so incredibly unpredictable that you never know what sound, instrument, or path Mahjonng are going to take next. Some will think that much of Kontpab is a mess and to some degree it is, but it's the band's free flowing mentality and ability to create a mess that makes them worthy of listening to.
Pop music this is not. What it is, however, is a challenging experience for those who think music should be confined by a specific genre, type of instrumentation or idea. Kontpab throws all that away and starts from scratch by going approximately four directions at once. From keyboards sounding like they're on their last leg to basslines that establish very rubbery grooves, Kontpab is like an indie rock jazz odyssey gone all wrong in the best way possible. If you can picture ChkChkChk on lithium you're on the right track.
Mahjongg isn't a band you take home to your parents to meet and Kontpab isn't an album you take home to your friends. Instead, both the band and their album are designed to be listened to in a dark room by yourself on headphones with giant globs of oil being projected on your ceiling. Psychotic, strange, and just barely musical, Kontpab is the sound of insanity.
No comments:
Post a Comment