The first five seconds of Something to See, Not to Say are only slightly misleading. The lovely ascending piano line texturally does very little to announce Anemometer’s aesthetic, which I can only describe as power nintendo cartoon metal math-core, but what it does hint at is the ascension that accompanies the music of Anemometer. That’s a word I’ve generally grown to associate with the fuzzy, warm-breeze frameworks that go with a gently swelling ambient work. But at pretty much one consistent dynamic level throughout these 10 tracks, Anemometer still lifts up. Melody after melody after melody, the chopped and warped number-munching mathematics of bass/snare hits, the phaser-firing squad of rhythm, and of course the blasting fanfares of power-major-chord synths — don’t be surprised if your palms begin to slowly rise upturned, fingers tensely curled slightly in, as if by divine intervention. It could even lead to a throw or two of the horns. Maybe. If you feel like it. But why not? Feel the glory and give in. Feel the electricity extending from your fingertips. Take a trip through the thunder of the Gods. Actually, definitely do throw the horns.
Dameon Thompson of El Monte, California issued this sucker as a pay-what-you-want download on his Bandcamp page, but it was sent my way on a Sweat Band Records compilation with the number SWEAT-012 in the title, so it might behoove one to watch for it to be released in a physical format there soon (On floppy disc, perhaps? That would rule).
P.S. Stalking (/research) tells me that Mr. Thompson is currently seeking a female vocalist to join the project full-time. All I can say is that I hope to God he gets a response.