Saturday, January 14, 2012

Real Ick

I don't think there has ever been such a gaping disparity between how much I simultaneously hate and like something, not that I like L.A.'s Tearist very much. They definitely fall under the "trying too hard" category which is a shame, because I like parts of their music and the arguable ideas behind it: raw emotional release and pushing the boundaries of the human capacity to enjoy ramshackle discordance. But even when it comes to guttural, primitive, voice- and/or noise-oriented music (or experiments, rather), there is just a whole world of more interesting and even just more sincere acts out there: Swedish minimalist duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums and Bjork, for example, or Glenn Branca and Sonic Youth. And I really want to like Tearist's lo-fi, trash-ass, retro aesthetic (I've always had a soft spot for junkyard electro-punk), but image is nothing without substance.

It's not the fact that Jasmina Kittles smashes, crashes, scrapes and clanks objects together like a caged animal desperate for escape. It's not the fact that she dresses in essentially nothing more than what could be a torn garbage bag or the way or yells, yelps, screeches and scowls like a feral child, stretching her voice in ways that seem entirely antithetical to the human larynx's intended design (or at least hers). I just sense an intangible level of affectation in Tearist's entire performance. And I've watched multiple Tearist videos, so I believe my judgment of the band is well informed enough. I'd guess Tearist is a satirical comment on hipsterdom, but that may be giving Tearist too much credit as any sort of intellectual or even pseudo-intellectual artistic endeavour.

Little doubt this has been my most negative post yet, but I think I'm a fair person, so I'll end my post with this: only Jasmina Kittles seems to try too hard. Synth player William Strangeland is pretty nondescript (for better or for worse).

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