Pitchfork

This is music for hiking across an alkaloid wasteland, equipped with enough oxygen and dried food to last through several days trek through a nitrogen-saturated atmosphere. There is a metallic taste to the air, and the sun, even at high noon, obscured by layers of sooty gas and overstuffed rain clouds. Black Dice, even when trying to inject a little rhythmic propulsion into their mechanic-industrial commotion, come off brittle and oil-stained futuristic. To a degree, this is dirty music, though more in style than execution; competing pulses from synthesizers, drum machines and the odd, antiquated guitar (via loop or sample, of course) destroy what little firm ground on which there is to step, but the landscape described by the sound is sturdy, if in need of polish. In fact, it's hard to say whether or not the quasi-urbanized clang is actually futuristic, as when drums appear, they're decidedly "tribal". Nevertheless, it's an isolated wilderness put forth on Broken Ear Record: away from city noise, refinement and fellow travelers.

Brooklyn trio Black Dice are the most interesting "noise" band I know. Never content to inhabit one sonic guise for long, their track record for navigating unexplored areas of static, delay, distortion and bizarre, heavenly bits of electronic data is almost unparalleled among would-be contemporaries. They've landed on the spikiest stylistic beachheads in modernist rock, from splatter noise-core, electronic ambience, quasi-electro acoustic improv (EAI), death disco and now to what I would clumsily characterize as post-apocalyptic jungle-core-- and isn't that a mouthful? Consequently, as easy as it is to marvel at their ambition, it's sometimes tough to really settle into one of their records. There's always something a little uncomfortable about Black Dice-- but then they wouldn't be as interesting otherwise. Broken Ear Record, reportedly the result of the band needing more rhythmic material to play live, is no exception: It's flighty, frustrating, and at times a little frigid, but intelligent and never lacking in momentum.

The sounds used should seem familiar to fans of 2004's polarizing Creature Comforts, as many of its synth patches, guitar tones and delay effects are featured on Broken Ear Record. The muffled, horn-like call that opens "Snarly Yow" could easily have been found hidden inside one of Comforts' robotic tone poems, as could the scraped percussion or the bizarre vocal loop that adorns its outer edges. However, here, rather than revel in the chaos of a savage urban jungle, Black Dice quantize the beats and sprinkle kick drums strategically throughout the track. There are moments that pound, but most of the time, the piece is content to merely suggest pulse, using loops and even modest stretches with straightforward melody. Make no mistake, melody doesn't play quite the importance in this world it does even in, say, Boredoms/Vooredoms' music (BD's most obvious predecessors)-- but as with Broken Ear's efficient use of 4/4 drum stomp, a little goes a long way.

"Motorcycle" uses the elements of melody and industrial rhythm to best advantage, at times sounding like a clamorous update on the Indestructible Beat of Soweto. High pitched human barks bounce up from a chorus of thud-drums, and a buoyant guitar line I swear was lifted from Graceland carries the tune into regions previously too naked-faced "accessible" for Black Dice. Yes, there are machine gun hits at the end, and no, the relative upfrontness of the melodies never lulls me into thinking I'm listening to pop music, but I'm hooked nonetheless. Likewise, the single "Smiling Off" features vocal harmonies (!) and another thudding percussion cadence (more rollicking than primal this time), though withholding the payoff for several minutes while bass drone, static and an erratic siren battle for dominance, flailing blindly in a dark room. "Street Dude" allows this kind of battle to reign supreme, as stereophonic synth blare and a drowning chirp overwhelm the short-lived click-track beat.

There are no truly "calm" songs on Broken Ear Record, but there are occasions to catch your breath. "Heavy Manners" uses a looped, queasy guitar figure with muffled vocals similarly to Animal Collective in one of their acid-damaged moments. Even "ABA", at less than a minute, allows me to shake away the haze via anti-gravity synth dips and pops. Still, Black Dice have hardly compromised what sounds like a pure vision. Their insistence on change is the mark of a still vibrantly creative band, and while I could do with even more rhythmic focus, I can't argue their total dedication to Broken Ear's aesthetic. Jagged and ornery, but playful: this is music for treading dangerously.