Review Archive Series #6: Mindflayer, Expedition to the Hairier Peaks cd

The following review represents one in a series of reviews published during my tenure as the resident music critic and assistant Arts Editor for The Phoenix, the official student newspaper of UBC-Okanagan in Kelowna, B.C. They are being reprinted here because I feel that while these reviews might represent a point of serious-suckitude in the developement of my writing, they are examples of my earliest attempts at criticism (if jerking off on an album's cover can be considered criticism), and above all: these albums desperately deserve the attention of your tinnitus-damaged ears.



















Mindflayer, Expedition to the Hairier Peaks
Corleone Records, 2005

Expedition to the Hairier Peaks opens with a maelstrom of messy noise bursts that burr and whirl about in a harsh, barely discernible rhythm: setting the tone for an album whose appeal is limited at best to the most rabid fans of LOAD Records extended family. Once the initial blast is over, and the radioactive dust begins to settle, Chippendales psychotic drumming fades into the mix. By the time the third track, "Netherworld Bike Patrol C.H.A.O.S.", blows out your speakers, a discernible pattern begins to emerge from the ruins Mindflayer have left smoldering in their wake. "Time Tunnel (Cosmic Crypt Chronoscape Collision Course)" draws the listener deeper into the album's painfully psychedelic keyboard and drum jihad, and the song's repetetive rhythm and noise combo holds brutally hypnotic power over the bludgeoned listener.

Previous releases had Mindflayer tagged by some as the mere bastard lovechild of Lightning Bolt and Forcefield. Nothing could be further from the truth. Expedition to the Hairier Peaks, their fouth album, indicates the deadly seriousness of this duo as a not the work of a side-project. Set apart from their tamer siblings, Mindflayer are an altogether different animal: a nasty-ass irascible beast with acid blood dripping from its frothing rabid chittering maw. Expedition to the Hairier Peaks features three epic patience-testers, which is fitting considering the albums name is a play on the name of a Dungeons and Dragons add-on. The fourteen minute "Nasty Meeting at Peak Park (Exploding Remains)" stands as the most terrifying amalgamation of Matt Brinkman's throbbing electronic gristle, and Chippendale's drumming is the stuff to inspire all-out prog-genocide. Throughout the album, vocals are barely audible, buried deep beneath layers of sound. When heard, the vocals are distorted, demonic, and screamed like scraped nails across a chalk board of white noise. There is little rock to be found in the raging wind-tunnel noise at the top of the Hairier Peaks, but that shouldn't turn curiosity seekers away. This stuff may be for the dudes whose ears are already ringing, but it isn't Merzbow, and it will lead to a greater appreciation of Forcefield, Lightning Bolt, and all their related excursions into your ear (especially the excellent Brian Chippendale solo-project, Black Pus!).