Hitting play on SEAMOSS2, the latest missive from Portland noisetinkerers Sea Moss, is like punching the big red button on a cartoon
bomb before it explodes into a multicolored mushroom cloud
From the second Nap Time revs up, vocalist Noa Ver and drummer Zach
D'Agostino absolutely clobber the listener with a distorted hodgepodge of sounds
as raw and violent as they are winkingly playful, as if Black Dice and Melt-Banana
were caught in the middle of some kind of psychotic square dance together.The
duo's setup "which involves a primitive assemblage of hacked feedback
oscillators, colorful Rococo tin boxes, and a contact mic plugged directly onto
Ver's neck to capture her barking intonations " harkens back to an era of DIY
where live performance meant everything. Blurring the line between reckless
improvisation and tightly- knit compositions, the band achieves a disorientingly
complex interplay. Though Sea Moss's music may initially seem to be an act of
pure blunt force, the duo's true prowess lies in the intricacy of their rhythmic
interplay. As freeform as it all might seem, SEAMOSS2 contains the band's most
potent, precise compositions yet, refining the distinct style they forged on
disorienting releases like Bread Bored and Bidet Dreaming into a thrilling act of
controlled chaos.
In an era where the communal spirit of DIY feels more difficult to achieve than
ever, Sea Moss embody the classic ethos of weirdo punk music in all its absurdity
and wonder. It's this same sense of scrappiness that's earned them attention
from legends like Lightning Bolt and Machine Girl, and SEAMOSS2 illustrates why
they're every bit as deserving of their own trophy in the noise-rock hall of fame
one adorned in broken contact mics and scuffed-up scratches from one too many
bloody basement shows.
