Previously the domain of such Japanese groups as Zeni Geva, Merzbow and Melt Banana, experimental noise rock is experiencing a domestic resurgence that has labels and music lovers taking notice.
Indie tastemakers Sub Pop Records have signed eardrum manglers Wolf Eyes, cult favorites the Boredoms are planning a large-scale comeback, Deerhoof’s “Milk Man” stands as one of the year’s avidly acclaimed albums and, most significantly, Chicago native Jim O’Rourke has filtered traces of the avant-garde into the popular realm via his work with Wilco.
While they won’t be tracked by mainstream radars anytime soon, Black Dice’s minimalist dance-punk, electrobeat jazz and grating white-noise distortion have set the noise-rock underground abuzz. Playing the second of two local shows Thursday night at the Empty Bottle, the Brooklyn trio eschewed individual songs in favor of uninterrupted instrumental collages that both wowed and divided the near-capacity crowd.
Equipped with a guitar, one floor-standing drum and three tables overflowing with effects pedals, modulators and manipulation devices connected by a complex network of cables and cords, Black Dice engineered collisions of man- and machine-made sounds. Technology triumphed at every turn. Single guitar and percussion notes were effortlessly doubled and tripled with the press of a button. Incomprehensible words shouted into a microphone were panned left to right, producing artificial call-and-response choruses. Subtle tropical melodies and sturdy dub rhythms drowned underneath robotic pulses and ugly abrasive drone.
Instead of providing needed sonic relief, the band remained intent on crushing its constructions with shrill frequencies. As a result, the extreme impulses didn’t terrify as intended but served as a reminder that maiming senses with loud volume levels is an easier and lazier approach than blowing minds with intricate tonalities and textures, a la Tortoise and Pelican.
Perhaps noticing that the trio was more concerned with making time to drink its beer rather than using the opportunity to connect with the audience, a third of the crowd departed before the brief 50-minute performance concluded.
Openers Animal Collective hooted, hollered and meowed through an entertaining performance that combined physical humor, situational lyrics and slow-motion vocals.
Resembling kids who just devoured a box of sugar cubes, the quartet intermittently broke out into convulsive hopping and dancing fits during a set of trancelike folk indebted to early Flaming Lips.
