ZapTown

Clipd Beaks
To Realize
Lovepump United
Rating: 4.5 out of 5

Link:
Clipd Beaks – http://www.myspace.com/clipdbeaks

I’d like to think that it is no coincidence that the very day I started listening to a long-sought after copy of Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music just happened to be the same day I started listening to Clipd Beaks’ To Realize. Not that the two releases have much in common on the surface, but it isn’t a stretch to imagine “To Realize” as the not-too-distant cousin of Metal Machine Music. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that an adventurous listener could play MMM behind the first three tracks of “To Realize” without diminishing the listening experience one bit.

The tracks mentioned above — “Strangler,” “Blood,” and “Broke Life” —  invoke images of darkness, lost puppies, abducted loved ones, and other nightmares.  Although three distinct songs, they also share a singular trajectory, slowly building to an incredibly dense and satisfying conclusion.  “Strangler” starts off sparse and ends with the secret of its many layers of drone exposed. And what beautiful layers they are!  In a time where drone machines are all the rage, Clipd Beaks manage to piece together found sounds into a wonderful tapestry that simply can’t be matched on any Black Angels release.  “Blood” picks things up a bit in terms of energy (just a bit) before punching you in the ear with “Broke Life.”  With guitars not unlike an air-raid siren announcing its beginning, layered vocals invoking an LSD-induced version of “Row Your Boat,” and a heavy bass line, “Broke Life” is an odyssey.  Just when you’ve got it figured out, a drum machine marks the 4:05 time signature and the song falls apart while coming together at the same time.  God, what a beautiful mess.  I could listen to the last 2 minutes of “Broke Life” forever.

“Visions” change the tempo and mood quite a bit, almost a bit too much.  Just as the groove starts to take hold, “Home” comes along and takes over.  Lots of horns, lots of guitars, a relentless bass line, and more horns, this is Lester Bangs back from the dead, bleating out chaos on his sax and annoying his neighbors while the drone reminds you that it’s best not to get too comfortable.  Comfort is dangerous on this album because “Atoms” is right around the corner.  Those spooky horns from “Home” are back, but not unlike the microscopic building blocks in which it is named, “Atoms” is a complex suite of layered (yes, that word again) bleeps, pangs, tinks, and a Star Destroyer plowing into your apartment.

“Atoms” enlarges to “Dust,” and track 7 expands on track 6.  A bit more psychedelic in nature than those songs that came before, the groove slows down at almost the 4 minute mark before the song ends as almost every other tune on the album does – with the master drone track revealed.  “Dust” evolves from “Atoms,” and matures into “Desert Highway Music.”  Haunting you with that reverb and ever-expanding textures, this might sound like every other “desert song” you’ve heard, but the Clipd Beaks manage to weave space sounds and other weirdness into the mix.  Imagine a time-lapse film of a cactus sprouting, flowering, withering, and ultimately dying with superimposed images of exploding stars…this is your soundtrack.

“Jamn” does just that – jam.  Maybe I’m just exhausted from the experience of the first 8 tracks, but this one left me a little underwhelmed.  There’s not a damn thing wrong with the track, but it lacks the focus of the first 8.  Yet again, it is called “Jamn,” and most jams lack focus and may have been the thematic intent all along.

“On One” clocks in at over 7 minutes and devolves into the sparsest track on the album.  That’s not to say the song is simple by any means, because it isn’t.  There’s just a lot more space in the song and not nearly as much chaos.  Feedback is the tendon that holds the vocals and drums together, with the bass line doing what its done so well throughout the album – pumping that blood that keeps the listener alive throughout the listening experience.  It ends with beautiful waves of noise and continues through to the final track “Shot on a Horse.”  The mix from “On One” to “Shot on a Horse” sounds to be virtually the same, until around the 2 minute mark.  That’s when the bass returns and introduces its new friend, the weeping violin.  Both are gone almost as soon as they arrived and the song fades away into the ether.

This is certainly the kind of music your parents will never understand, and that many of you won’t like.  For some, however, this is brilliant fucking music.

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