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with Prurient, Alchemical Burn and Manhole
By Simon McCormack
Sunday, Oct. 9; the Launchpad (21-and-over), $7: If you ever find yourself lying in bed, unable to get up and worried that you'll spend the entire day under the covers, grab your CD player remote and put on Wolf Eyes' Burned Mind. After a few moments, your new thought process should be something like: "I can't lay here all day. I've got to get up and stab someone in the throat!" Using homemade instruments/noise-producing contraptions, Wolf Eyes works in the medium of textural sound to produce tangible feelings of pain, anxiety and impending doom. As tense as the record makes you feel, there is something strangely cathartic about listening to 70 minutes of continually pulsating racket. This isn't music to get the party started. (Unless your party revolves around ritual suicide.) It's a demonic sermon or perhaps a sadistic wake-up call. The Ann Arbor trio was fortunate to be recognized by leading independent label Sub Pop as more than just adroit noisesters. Wolf Eyes has somehow managed to combine musical extremism with something that even rock purists can get wound up about. I start to tense up when I think about what a live Wolf Eyes show might be like; even listening to Burned Mind on low volume can make me break into a sweat. A few things are for certain; it will be loud, grating and a true sight to behold.
The Richmond Jazz Quartet at Corrales Bistro Brewery
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