The eternally unspellable Quttinirpaaq (think I got it now tho) also are eternally insatiable when it comes to HOW MUCH CHAOS IS ENOUGH? Every time one of their songs grows what resembles a limb or crag to hold onto, they chainsaw it off and either add more blood-mist spray, a power tool, or another rhythmic element to make you forget what you’re hearing. It’s almost like they’ve co-opted The Melvin’s “HOW —++—” and based an album around it (a great idea, btw; one of Honky’s overlooked gems), Dead September be thy name. But no it’s never that simple, is it? Life isn’t that easy. ‘Paaq pack a lot of corroded crust into their jams, reminding these ears of everyone from Throbbing Gristle to, surprisingly, JAMC. If you had that gimp guitarist from Mad Max rifling through some riffs at a construction site with a drum machine and noisiest providing the backing that might explain Dead September best; then again I’m not sure if what I’m hearing is actually riff-based or not. There could be a six-stringer going to town under the audio junkyard, but much like that poor sax player from Puffy Areolas, it’s all a mystery unless you’ve seen the band live. I thought the Quttinirpaaq boys were from the Pacific Northwest for some reason (educated guess), but they’re just up the road in Austin so maybe I’ll get the chance to shimmy up there and tell you about their concerts myself. A man can dream. Until then, busy yourself with sounds from the deadest month of them all…
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