Black Pus : Terrestrial Seethings
For the last quarter-century, Lightning Bolt—the long-running fuzz-bathed bass and apeshit drums duo made up of the two Brians, Gibson and Brian Chippendale—have personified the D.I.Y.-or-die ethos through their freakazoid junkyard bangers, low-budget “get in the van” tour lifestyle and with their trademark set-up-on-the-floor-instead-of-the-stage live experience (in recent years, they shifted to performing on stages for safety purposes). It’s hard to fathom that it has been twenty-five years since the Bolt’s 1999 self-titled Load Records debut but even harder to believe that concurrent to their metal-meets-noise-rock action, Chippendale’s gonzo one-man-project Black Pus has been wreaking havoc just as long—two decades to be precise.
The sonic and high-voltage parallels seem legion when balancing Lightning Bolt and Black Pus’ frenetic blasts. The obvious distinction is the distortion-drenched salvos Gibson sprays from his bass, which is one of their hallmarks and a sound anchor, along with Chippendale’s scorched-earth wallop and alien dispatches. Despite the like-minded aesthetic sensibilities (I mean, come on, there’s going to be some common ground there), Chippendale takes Black Pus to superhuman levels beyond most bands that feature a single member toting a drum kit, electronics, noise pedals and a mic. As anyone who’s heard both bands is well aware, Chippendale occupies his own sonic universe. And Black Pus is way out there, ostensibly spawned from the cosmos.
After the big indie label release of the Thrill Jockey-dropped All My Relations in 2013 followed by a steady stream of self-released, lo-fi CD-R’s and digital albums during the subsequent years, Chippendale is back with another recorded-in-studio full-length proper. But who am I to deem what constitutes a “legit” Black Pus record versus a makeshift one? As it turns out, Terrestrial Seethings marks all the boxes. Sure, it was recorded in a regular studio (Machines with Magnets) with an engineer (Seth Manchester) but it’s also quintessentially Black Pus no matter the production values: its freewheeling, kitchen-sink din is pure exhilaration from start to finish.
Notorious for his take-no-prisoners approach behind the kit, Chippendale’s gearshift is firmly set in interstellar overdrive on Terrestrial Seethings. With the forward momentum relentless, the drumming akin to death-defying acrobatics, the synth-powered grooves infectious, the noise cranked up to 10 and the contorted vocal transmissions piped in from some other galaxy, Chippendale has homed in on a controlled, day-glo-splattered, chaos. He calls it “energy music first and foremost” (according to the press release) and he’s spot on. There’s nary a moment to breathe over the album’s eight shimmering and mangled tracks, all designed to rile up the sweaty pit. What’s striking about these glitchy experiments of Chippendale’s is how he’s transformed recorded fragments born from fully improvised sessions then molded them into a sort of elastic cohesion that burst with delicious hooks, as heard on the addictive one-two opening punch of “Ping Pong” and “Hungry Animal.”
As much as his gone-amuck punk-jazz beats are his signature, it’s the Suicide-like keyboard propulsions that take songs like “Mark My Word” and “Wide Asleep” from the mosh pit to the dancefloor for some serious body-moving energy. Then there’s “So Deep,” a woozy electro-doom slow burner that will make your head spontaneously combust while you bang your head. Chippendale’s warbled, indecipherable yelps provide yet another melodic layer to the noisescapes. Whatever official (or unofficial) number album this one, Terrestrial Seethings is Black Pus’ gloriously warped masterpiece.
Label: Thrill Jockey
Year: 2024
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