Battles :: Mirrored

Math Rock Doesn't Die; It Simplifies

To me, some bands can be compared to olives, in that it took me quite a few attempts before I could eat an olive without making a sour face. It may have something to do with the fact that my first olive was a giant, Spanish black olive (avec pip) that had been soaking in brine for, oh, probably five years. I ate it sitting on an airplane next to a girl, MB, who I'd had a crush on for about the same amount of time as the olive had been marinating. It was during a school-organized trip to Europe, and I was 18 (yes, I was 18 before I had an olive. You might think this odd until you remember that I grew up in Kansas). We had just been served our in-flight meals, and MB opened her sealed-in-plastic salad. She turned to me slowly, holding the salad out in offering, and asked, "Do you want my olive?" For a split second I hoped it was some odd metaphor for jumping her bones in the airplane toilet, but I quickly realised that, indeed, she didn't want her olive. So I ate it, of course, without hesitation as if to say, "I'll put anything you want in my mouth." The resulting squirms, grunts, and facial expressions were enough for her to switch seats.

This is not to say that Battles will make you squirm, grunt, or make pretty girls move away from you. It is merely a note that if you don't immediately like it, just wait because it might grow on you.

I recently read a review that likened Battles to a blend of Flaming Lips, Marilyn Manson, and Underworld. Others say it lifts a middle finger to the nay-sayers of modern pop. Still others assert this band is a cool marriage of Euro clash and free jazz. In fact, a lot of people have been writing a lot of things about Battles (my favourite quote comes from an issue of Filter where the reviewer states, "they make heavy duty sound collages that rock, roll, and exemplify the increasingly small chasm between bliss and confusion."). And squeezed between all their literary posturing and their respective quests to uniquely describe an agreeably odd band, all the reviews I've read agree on one point: the band is good, so just give it some time.

But one doesn't need elaborate comparisons to bands active or otherwise when the roster for this New York quartet reads as follows: two members from Don Cabellero (Ian Williams, Dave Kanopka), a member of Helmet (John Steiner), and a very interesting, and sometimes comical, vocal set provided by Tyondai Braxton (it was his synthesised vocals that required second and third listens, for on the first go I dismissed him as just a bit too bizarre). What you get is asymmetric structure, shifting time signature, driving percussion, and melodies that appear and disappear like ships in harbour fog.

Oh, and hand claps. They have hand claps. We like hand claps here at D&C.

Verdict :: Recommended for those with the patience to acquire a taste

Song :: Ddiamondd