Pitchfork

From early 2000 on, Charlottesville, VA has played home to an almost unfathomably fertile art-rock and noise scene. At its epicenter is Pee Wee's Pudhouse. No more than a cramped house serving as a venue (but still by all accounts Charlottesville's Hacienda), the Pudhouse puts on donation-only shows, feeds performers home-cooked meals, and even allows bands who just happen to show up unexpectedly a place in that night's line-up-- the likes of which have included Quintron, Neon Hunk, and Lightning Bolt.

USAISAMONSTER's Colin Matthews and Tom Hohmann, both former Bostonians, are among the most responsible for planting the demon seeds of Charlottesville's noise scene. The two were the first to rent out the space that would become the Pudhouse, and were the venue's biggest promoters and most frequent performers. Various lineups of the band (at one point numbering seven people) quickly cut four albums, the first one within weeks of the band merely existing. For whatever reason-- perhaps it was the incident when drunk beardclashers nearly set the venue ablaze-- USAISAMONSTER decided it was time to leave town, and soon relocated to Brooklyn, playing and recording their brand of jerky, often melodic noise-rock, and eventually landing on the radar of genre heavyweights Load Records.

Which brings us to Tasheyana Compost. Now a duo, USAISAMONSTER's most recent effort is a varied ten-song collection that can at times recall the spasm and quirky melodicism of Deerhoof, the heavy-handed drumwork of Sightings, and the riffcentricity of Pink & Brown. The band is at its best when these elements interact effortlessly, affording songs a curious tinge of edgy, mournful Americana that ultimately defines the overall tone of the record.

"Reservation treaties no longer stand" in opener and standout track "Somehow", a passionate battle cry on behalf of Native Americans whose "home cannot be returned." A reverent guitar line and snare drum roll accompany thoughts on the rift between modern and tribal culture and our respective interactions with nature: "Run and get a wrench. Let's get the hell out of here." Thoughts become fragmented alongside more spastic rhythmic figures in the second part of the song, bridged to the first and the third by a Deerhoofian duet of Casio keyboard and guitar. The band returns once more to unhinged jumpy narrative, concluding in quirk with, "In light of native history the progress looks like cancer cells to me somehow," an unsettling finale if only because it's couched in such precocious melody.

While not possessing the ambition of "Somehow", "No More Forever" is similarly jerky, the Casio keyboard reappearing as part of a guitar duet behind steadily intensifying drumwork, rapid-fire guitar octaves, and a close-harmony rendition of Nez Perce Chief Joseph's famous last words, "I will fight no more forever." "Ruin" blends noisy Sightings-like territory, discordant DC mathematica, and Tom Waits-ish vocal delivery. Album closer "Crumble" recalls Deerhoof once more musically and thematically, a compelling ballad on man's environmental disrespect: "Painted symbol marks the hidden place overgrown pile of robotic waste." The song ebbs in and out of rolling torrents of rabid strummed guitar, reverting back to its relatively clean folk-like setting for conscious lyrics that somehow never grate, and finishing itself in octave-jangling bravado.

For all these unusually human moments in a genre not known for its sanguinity, USAISAMONSTER occasionally give too much precedent to riffage at the expense of any discernable or cohesive song structure. In these instances, what results is an unfocused, poorly considered parade of butt guitar; it's loud, but hardly interesting or much of anything else. "Screaming Bloody Murder" is perhaps the biggest offender, further weighed down by its downright awful free association word plays: "Next hot glue gun karaoke duck bill platypus wack pretending alien sabertooth hippy punk ham hock soup." "Anal Lies" takes second place, and "Poison Snake", which opens promisingly, degenerates into mindless riffage.

It's rash, though, to count the penultimate track "Love" among USAISAMONSTER's failed musical experiments on Tasheyana Compost-- indeed, its last minute of discord fearlessly bubbling over soulless garage-rock and 80s hair-metal theatricality poses an enormous question: can the genre accommodate other musical traditions? Is this something it even wants? Noise-rock has proven it can be loud, but now what? Is song structure its next point of refinement? Tasheyana Compost hints at possible directions for the genre, and, while not fully realized itself, the album promises much in store.