So this is embarrassing, but the Rasta alien in the yellow Bruce Lee tracksuit visited me too, and he handed me this tape, GDFX’s Young Ox Restraint, all the while promising that it will be the gateway to the future that I’ve always envisioned. The embarrassing part is that I believed him — I mean, I figured I was special here, not many other blokes get strange visits from Jamaican grays dressed to the nines in the most recognizable outfit of the most famous kung-fu artist ever. But I’m not special.
Not by a long shot. Here’s why.
This same alien visited GDFX too, this fuggin guy, Greg Fox of Guardian Alien fame. Turns out, according to the story Greg tells in yon linked video, his career was actually given a boost by the advice gleaned from this visitation, like this alien was some sort of experimental-musician whisperer or something. He’s certainly not a music-writer whisperer, that’s for sure. All he wanted me to do was listen to this tape, and maybe check out some Adidas training gear. He didn’t even get me an interview at Pitchfork.
Sigh. That’s OK, I’ll forgive him — this time — because Young Ox Restraint (Mondoj), an experimental tape recorded beneath the mantle of an experimentally minded pseudonym, is THE GATEWAY TO THE FUTURE THAT I’VE ALWAYS ENVISIONED. No, wait, that’s a little too much, but the alien was right about one thing — these tracksuits are comfortable. Oh, that and GDFX is worth taking a moment — several moments, in fact — out of your day to listen to. I mean, we’ve heard Fox play in all sorts of hefty ensembles, from Teeth Mountain to Guardian Alien, and there is very little disappointment in any of those ventures. There is just the right amount of zero disappointment in Young Ox Restraint as well.
Think about it: mad prolific and technical drummer tackles only synthesizers because he “wants to fuck around.” (My quote, not his.) We get some noodly Casio shit or misty-eyed ambient wankery? Not on your life! Not only does Fox know his way around a synthesizer rig, he doesn’t even remotely give up on rhythm. Anything less than a dynamic workout is absolute failure. So it’s no surprise then that side A track 1, the title track, takes us through a regular Greg Fox routine, except not on drums. The polyrhythms batter one another, connecting and disengaging and reconnecting, but melodically.
We get a break of course. Not everything is sheer adrenaline. But shades of contemporaries like Max Eilbacher, or early Dan Deacon, or Power Pill Fist flavor the tunes, proving that GDFX is surely a part of a larger, many-tentacled and incestuously connected network of like-minded weirdos. Hey, maybe our bedreaded alien pal is making the rounds?
