The Conformists - Two Hundred (Collective Records)

 

The Conformists. Yup! Truth in advertising, folks. Get it right here! They totally sound like everything out there right now, wrapped in a pretty package all set for mass consumption. Tasty! Available at your local delicatessen, in rye or wheat.

What? You say sarcasm doesn't translate well in print? You're totally right!

The Conformists have essentially become an institution in the St. Louis music scene over the past seven years. The fact that this is their debut full length could be a testament to either their laziness or their commitment to perfection. Or maybe one of them was mistakenly institutionalized for a couple years with Brad Pitt frothing on about how hot Madeleine Stowe isn't in a blonde wig. Regardless, the 7 tracks clock in at just under 30 minutes, which "conformally speaking" could possibly label it an EP. But then, Reign in Blood was only 28 minutes or so and lots of bands release full-length albums that are only one track (on which the best material is undoubtedly halfway through), so why would that matter? It doesn't, really, so nevermind that I brought it up.

Right away, you'll notice something different about this record before you even listen to it. The packaging is a type I've not seen before: a VarioPac plastic holder that has a little black plastic lever in the upper left hand corner that literally pushes the cd out of the case, with two rounded plastic spring-loaded pieces that grip the cd and hold it in. Interesting, and it lets you know something different's coming. The liner notes are very plain and condensed into only what is needed (track titles, recording info, contact info) with purposely off-centered color pages that make it look like it was cut wrong.

At a recent show they did with US Maple (that might help give you a clue where their musical loyalties fall, but I'm certainly not trying to categorize their own sound), I was treated to what has become a long-standing tradition of unpredictability in live performances by The Conformists. One song was done with no volume whatsoever; the drums were played with brushes and the vocals completely inaudible. Half the audience was hip to it, having seen the band many times before, and even hummed along with the instruments/vocals. Immediately after, they launched into a full volume song, making for a nice effect. They've also played with bands like Shellac, Cheer-Accident, Yowie, and French Toast if that gives you any clues as to some more of their allies.

As for the band's sound, whereas US Maple seem to mold something that utilizes the occasional hook and really interesting chord progressions centered around their dual intricate guitars but still can use a song-like formula to their tracks, The Conformists tend to make me think of the aural equivalent of being thrown down a flight of metal stairs in a dark alley nailed to a bloody clown beating you with a half-broken strobe light. Not in a bad sense at all, though. There are tons of shifting rhythms present, and while the rhythms/chords can be repeated at times, they are constantly morphed through slight differences such as seasick retuning (as in the last 3 minutes of Welcome, Rainbows) and radical tempo changes (as in These Are Not Flowers). Actually, These Are Not Flowers was one of the first tracks that caught my ear (an mp3 is at this time available from the band's website). The song starts with bass, guitar, and drums doing a relatively simple two-chord verse-like chugging section. The drums almost immediately start to slow down while the guitar and bass keep the tempo up, until the drums are creeping along, ultimately falling into a fill and joining back in with the guitars/bass at the original tempo. Then the guitar and bass do the same digression of tempo, with the drums keeping the tempo up. Ultimately the guitar does some jerky gymnastic strumming (hence the stair stumbling), and the vocals come in with a few spoken lines with just the drums and a final scream before the song ends.

Lobster Bisque has a creeping tempo with some frog-like bass and quiet guitar noodling over some whispered lines from a guy named Jeffrey who is a friend of a friend and has heard so much about you. That is, until the whole song stops and what sounds like a record needle being scraped across vinyl comes out of the middle of nowhere (possibly the most ear-piercing part of the whole record). An old acoustic guitar starts an 8-beat pattern that somehow seems like it should be 6 beats and the bass and drums join in followed by the vocals.

The actual instrument tones present are not all that abrasive: the guitar is for the most part a relatively clean Marshall-like tone with natural tube distortion, and the bass is pretty clean. Not many abrasive vocals, but there a few screams/yells here and there. It's more the manner in which things are played that pummels your senses: the constant tuning shifts in Welcome, Rainbows actually make me feel like a stumbling drunk holding back vomit that is dangerously close to daylight. Actually, I could liken that entire song to a night on the town, and think I will.

0:00 - 0:54 The song starts out with our Hero coherently getting ready for a night out on the town, complete with a session of practicing awesome and hottt dance moves on the way to Local Bar. (Jammin' bass line confidently walks around a bit.)

1:05 - 2:05 Hero starts to get a bit queasy, having downed 3 beers in an 8 minute time frame. Hero begins to share stories of his endless wisdom and truth with strangers while continually bumping into them inappropriately. Beverage consumption escalates. (Quiet sounding guitar stumbles a bit with broken drums and spoken vocals.)

2:10 - 2:22 Hero accidentally bumps into girlfriend of large weightlifter/butcher type. Hero is warned to not do so again or be "disciplined". (Tight, manic, squeaking guitar notes and frightful vocals for a few seconds.)

2:23 - 3:14 Hero goes about his business, rightfully singing and dancing by himself in center of bar, atop bar, on peoples' heads, etc. (Full band with head bobbing section of riffage and vocals shouting rhythmically, complete with a "WHOOOOAH"-type drinking song-like yell.)

3:15 - 4:03 Hero is throttled by weightlfter/butcher type and taken outside where he his head is "talked to" with bottles. (Drums illustrate this very well, while the guitars and screaming, painful vocals provide a wall of hazy, lost sounding feedback.)

4:04 - end Hero wakes up next morning, finds self lying on sidewalk in puddle of own blood and drool, rolls around and gets up to stumble home, still drunk. (Constantly detuning guitars and sickly meandering bass set the feel, eventually fading out, while drums accent every now and then, picturesquely portraying our Hero stumbling into lightposts and passersby.)

Yay, that was fun. What I really want to do is direct.

All this description does not convey whether I like this record or not, though, does it? I'd have to say: yes, I do. In the sense that the concept of writing and creating music that is aurally abrasive in new manners and does not necessarily give the listener a feeling of soothing, euphoric beauty with nice lush chords or overly singable melodies, but in a way that pushes you to think of something hurtful in the audial way. To me, the band seems to be more about creating edgy art in everything they do, from their show flyers (an impressive collection on their site, btw) to the act of live performance (at which they excel) as well as the music they write and record (and even the way they package it). They seem to be trying to stomp all over boundaries in every aspect they can, and for that I definitely can recommend this album/band. Do my ears still yearn for some little tidbits of ear candy from time to time, like a nice shimmering tone or two to help balance out the herky jerky ones? Maybe so. But I can honestly say I've never heard something quite like this before, and in a music world wrought with clones, I commend them on that point heartily.

- Eric Burnley | 2005-02-10
Indie Workshop