Available at PSF Records
| Aural Fit II |
| It's
not exactly a secret that the Tokyo underground likes noise. Loud
noise. Lots and lots of it. Mix it with a bit of psych, and it's catnip
for Japanese rock geeks, the kind of thing guys like me play just so we
can shake our heads and think "damn. Can those guys still hear anything
after that?" Aural Fit preempt that question with the title of their album, II. Meaning they must have survived one, so they're giving inner ear destruction another chance. Presumably worshiping at the altar of fellow PSF titans High Rise, they take a particularly punishing strain of brutally overdriven rock sludge and connect battery cables to its nipples, sending off impossibly huge arcs of filthy noise so utterly devoid of subtlety that it's impossible to tell if it was carefully recorded or not. It certainly SOUNDS great, but for all I know, it was done with a couple of condenser mics in the corner. Track titles seem a bit silly for what is essentially one gigantic slab (they're not even listed on the packaging,) but there are some differences in approach that warrant mentioning. First track "Incompatible P/SY" takes Les Rallizes Dénudés "Flames Of Ice," ups the aggression, and turns the sonics upside-down, all bottom and rage. Put some echo on the distant vocals and you've got the sound of Hell: not Iron Maiden Hell, with cool looking monsters and other sundries. No, this sounds like you're hearing some poor guy trapped in sheer agony in a particularly deep cave as hot magma rains down from the ceiling (not the sky: despite its hugeness, Aural Fit's sound practically sweats claustrophobia.) A short reigning in of the torrent of noise at 7:30 is hardly a relief: it simply reveals that those big blobs of sound were actually derived from some pretty disturbing notes and chords. Not to worry, the volume builds back to white noise levels pretty quickly. Part of the fun of this stuff is seeing how the human brain processes it, what sort of imagery will the mind concoct to defend itself from such a senseless assault. The "guy trapped in Hell" scenario pops up again on second track "Diagnostic P/N/S," more echoey vocals trying to claw their way on top of the mess. Third track "Resolver" resolves nothing, actually upping the confusion with a faster beat (if you could call it that) which could be the sound of being trapped inside the heart of a particularly large, panicked animal. Fourth and final track "Stuffed Men II," with the simple act of making the (still indecipherable) vocals a little more angry instead of pained, would make an absolutely brilliant soundtrack for a truly evil act of vengeance. The fact that the guitar eventually reveals itself to be playing something not too far removed from the main riff of "The Immigrant Song" doesn't exactly persuade one otherwise. Now it's some other poor bastard's turn to suffer. All this abstraction aside, Aural Fit never strays from being a rock band. While it clearly has elements of free jazz, psych, metal, and God Knows what else, it's really just rock 'n' roll. Filthy, terrifying, ludicrously over the top rock 'n' roll. |