Black Dice Albums (5)
What The Critics Say
In the last few years, Black Dice have built an insular world of future imperfect electronic clatter, cosmic guitar, and tribal chattering. The latest report in their ongoing tale is Broken Ear Record. It's less glossy than either of its full-length predecessors, Beaches and Canyons (2002) or Creature Comforts (2004), and in addition to a bit of grit there is a stronger rhythmic center to what is happening here as well. Nowhere is the pulse more apparent than on album-opener "Snarly Yow," which builds around a distorted electro synthesizer line before erupting into harsh electronics and an insistent four-on-the-floor beat. But the Dice are too self-conscious to let it last for long, and soon they're back to riding alternating currents over plateaus of frosted guitar delays and sine squelches. Suffice to say, there's a lot going on here, even within a single track. The only other track to lean as heavily on a drum machine is "Smiling Off"; otherwise, it's the usual bleeping, rumbling blissness that the Dice pull off time after time with deceptive ease. However, the tribal heartbeat of album closer "Motorcycle" indicates that even in the nearly lawless, Lord of the Flies world of Black Dice, a little discipline in necessary now and again. ~ Wade Kergan, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
If the tag "cosmic American music" hadn't already been claimed by rockers in love with honky tonk, then it would certainly apply to Black Dice and Creature Comforts. Since it has and the cold dead fingers of Gram Parsons and his followers aren't likely to loosen their hold on it, then Black Dice must be what hides within that mossy rock, a faceted geode taking in light and turning it in a thousand directions. Black Dice started their electronic spelunking in 2001 with the half hardcore, half noise of Cold Hands, before completely abandoning their avant-core roots for the blissful beeping reductionism of 2002's Beaches and Canyons. They followed with the four-on-the-floor anchor of 2003's Cone Toaster single and the art-gallery cool of 2004's Miles of Smiles EP. Following those creations, it's much easier to hear how Black Dice arrived at Creature Comforts than the jump that came between their previous full-lengths. The album emerges with the tipsy, vaguely tropical guitar of "Cloud Pleaser" and quickly dives into the electro-jamming that they established with Beaches and Canyons. The shifting patterns and off-kilter loops that defined that album are here, at times sounding like a more deliberate version of Maryanne Amacher's vertigo-inducing third-ear music and sometimes like the folk hypnotics of Animal Collective. Things really kick in with the almost title track "Creature." It's all rumble, echo, and a higher-ground drifting that recalls a different kind of cosmic music -- the kosmisch psyche of Popol Vuh (a presence that reestablishes itself later in the album with "Skeleton") as well as the rough soundscaping of fellow electricians Nautical Almanac and the sci-fi soundtrack classic Forbidden Planet all at the same time. It's not all blissed-out bubbling, though, with ugly scrapings and feedback still playing a part in the Black Dice mix without ever overpowering it. Ultimately, Creature Comforts is another starry refraction in the cosmic music claimed by Black Dice, a refraction that hasn't yet failed to dazzle. ~ Wade Kergan, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
And now for something completely different. After two full-length discs and several singles of avant-core that came off like Void covering Metal Machine Music, the noisy Rhode Island warmongers slipped into something a little less comfortable on Beaches and Canyons. Even though the disc might appear a more docile dossier on the surface, what with skronk replaced by electronic chirps and more silence in the space of one disc than Black Dice had accumulated in its career to date, a look beneath sees the vitriol hasn't vanished, it's just morphed into something else."Endless Happiness" by itself is indicative of this: It starts off with tranquil recorders piping atop symphonic synth blurbs for about five minutes before John Bonham-like percussion shakes life into the track, which gradually increases tempo and timbre and tenor and tumults for another four minutes, whereby it slips into the sound of the sands washed in a pleasant tide, which plays out the last five minutes of the track, making it about three-quarters (relatively) silent but deadly. Even disc-closer "Big Drop," the most abrasive cut to make the cut, is more artifice than facetiousness, relying on the hum of electric pulsations to make its points far more than the horrific screams that are reminiscent of John Zorn's most metal moods. The combination of brain and brawn is a revelation for the band, and their enthusiasm alone would be enough to carry Beaches and Canyons, yet that enthusiasm by itself only scratches the surface. ~ Brian O'Neill, All Music Guide
