First off, let’s get the obvious out of the way. That title is not a joke.
I didn’t know what to think when I received this indie disc (hereafter, for the sake of my typing fingers, shortened to ALITDOAM). After four listens, I still don’t know what to think, but I know that it’s strangely addictive.
This is another one of those unquantifiable pieces of music. Thankfully, according to their own press kit, and I quote, “They do not have an answer for ‘what kind of music is it?'” At least I don’t feel stupid. Imagine, if you can without the aid of altered chemistry, a mix between The Residents, Aaron Copeland, incidental music from 1930s Warner Brothers cartoons, Stravinsky, Frank Zappa, PDQ Bach, Schonberg, Brubeck, mambo, Devo, and soundtrack excerpts from thirties and forties exploitation cinema and fifties and early sixties sex education films, and you might — note the word MIGHT — get a grip on something that resembles TpTSCO. Then again, you might just go mad and hold up your local Krispy Kreme, demanding forty-two purple canaries and a used toboggan.
This is not to say that it’s bad. On the contrary, it’s rather — intriguing after a while. It grows on one. Whatever else they might be doing, TpTSCO is definitely doing something unique, and in this day and age that’s a rarity from anyone in mass media. I suspect, from sentiments presented in their opus three-part title track, that they’d like it that way. They’re too busy making new and spiffy sounds to try to sell anyone anything or indoctrinate anyone.
ALITDOAM‘s production and engineering is good, although there are moments where I found myself lunging for the volume control or straining to hear. (Dynamic variation is good. Dynamic inconsistency is bad.) The musicianship of the performers is excellent, though I’ll be darned if I can pick out who’s playing what, when, where, and why. Sounds good to me; let’s move on. Given Fred and Ethel Merz are given drum credits, I’m not asking any more questions.
I would normally detail the songs for you at this point in the review. (After five years, I have a formula.) Bah humbug, I tell you. They are indescribably weird and delightful, and you will have to hear them for yourself, but not if you are insufficiently adventurous or have not had all your shots.
TpSTCO and A Life In The Day Of A Microorganism, much like tattoos, tequila benders, Dennis Kucinich, or anchovies, are not for everyone. Perhaps you are one of the few, the brave, and the truly avant garde. Ask yourself: do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do you?
