industrial rock with triphop and break beats. subtle touches of world music and electronica.

11 MP3 Songs
ELECTRONIC: Industrial, ROCK: Goth



Details:
Somewhere between climactic tension and self-perpetuating hopelessness,
stalemates become unusually unnerving things. It is no surprise
The Immovable Objection, the new CD from Stormdrain,
stirs with unique, complex agitation.



"It's the first half of a sequence," explains frontman Scott Reyns.
"Picture a cell interrupted by foreign object(s) in mid-mitosis and
the tension it gives off. Natural growth impaired and that condition
giving off an unnatural energy, or one that at least feels so.
The membrane's transparency is a kind of nakedness, vulnerability
and invisibility... Feeling divided, interrupted, violated, overlooked
or taken for granted are common things nowadays â under a
microscope, most are able to find the same shit on the outside
that we can on the inside. I know I for one can... These were
guiding energies over the past year or two."




"We did this one almost totally online." chuckles guitarist Ninos Oshaana.
"We hooked up in person for a few sessions, but artists have new
digital freedoms and capabilities. Ironically, we work with more flexibility,
tightness and scrutiny now. Plus we've a more robust platform for concept
explorations, which have gradually become more... complicated."



The release marks Stormdrain's first commercial release after a period of
pensive reclusion. In the late 90s the band, still students, quickly
gained notice for the "irresistible triphop groove" (SF Bay Guardian)
of "disillusioned fables screaming for airtime" (Metro) like the song
Loophole. The band's demos, though they went generally without
any promotion, quickly gained them neighborhood following, props from
international Web surfers, and interest from both indie labels and
major label headhunters before they'd even played their first live show.



Nonetheless, despite their growing market in 1999 Stormdrain withdrew
like violent weather subsiding as abruptly as it
had hit. Their songs continued online and found their way into film
and television shows, including "Making the Band" and "The Sopranos."
Meanwhile they kept writing and recording privately.



To listeners above ground, Stormdrain's unexpected calm left a puzzle
of scattered breezing rumors. Internally however, it meant a dip into
abstinence and solemn introspection. "Nothing's ever turn-key.
We made choices in favor of
standards, practicality and longevity," recalls Reyns. "They were
hard because we had enthusiastic momentum started, but now we have
something to show for it that represents accurately what's
been the goal." Adds Oshaana, "We were shy and unprepared when we
first got noticed. In a way that made it easier to know when to
step back and say 'Let's keep to our guts, pace ourselves, and
try avoiding roads that don't seem to really go in
the right directions.'"



That perfectionism shows the CD's lead track, "Clever," a song
manifested in multiple versions ranging from industrial metal writhes
to lamenting theatric soundscapes. Notes Reyns, "Of all the songs, Clever
was a particular collaboration." "Sometimes songs become like
stories â not in that they're always narratives, rather in that
they need to get presented in multiple ways to cover it all. Some are
straight-forward, others are families of connected themes," says Oshaana.
"Not 'remixes' â just a kind of 'family values' not designed to
fuck anyone up for once," Reyns jokes.



Stormdrain's hallmark propensity for black humor is instantly noticable
in The Immovable Objection. Tracks like the boggy synth
diatribe "Vomit" sport lyrics like "you can carve me up but
you're the real pig here today." Others, with titles like "Clever
(say never again)" and "meat (Clever)" by producers Justin
Lassen and D@v-o respectively, make the wordsmith's play obvious.
"That's part of the fun," Reyns smirks. "Sometimes we'll end up
sprinkling things and kinda going off â a double entendre here,
a triple meaning there â stuff that sounds like one thing when
you listen to it but becomes another when you read the words etc. â

but that gets pretentious real quick if done beyond just occasionally,"
Reyns observes. "We got more straight-up with the funny this time.
Count (producer/engineer) and everyone on the production
team â aside from being incredibly talented people we were lucky to
be able to jam with, everybody was nicely chill, going in free-spirited
and instinctive."



Traits like openness and experimentalism are a signature of Stormdrain's music,
with origins ranging from high to low tech, from new to old, from near to far,
from unpolished to pristine. They gathered sounds using tape recorders brought
on trips to Asia, Europe, and throughout North America. They swapped outtakes
and disembodied noises, from answering machines to the sounds of nearby
construction sites. They introduced instruments like Assyrian Saz and Aud
on the thrashy "Voyeur (doubletake)," and "geekery what-ifs and
deliberate misuses" via electronics and found objects on the abrasive
dance assault "Slicer."



"We tweak a lot but are hoping to avoid getting mistaken as one of those
bands who are too naïve to know their history, acting all sly like 'look,
we're so innovative' and all," says Oshaana. "Sure, we mix it up with some
stuff... all basically illogical... 98 comes out unusable. About 2 we end up
liking so 1 actually makes it onto a final CD as some detail. Reinventions
of the wheel are a bit rarer than most audiences are lead to believe." Reyns
confesses, "I think most artists do nothing fundamentally original, and
with us at least â if/when we did so, chances are whatever was behind
it was just accidental, like plugging a data output into an audio input
while half asleep or something embarrassing like that."




With so much intuition behind the eye of the Stormdrain,
might one think it safer to avoid so much playing by ear?



"One might," nods Reyns. "At the end of the day though,
it's how things play to the ear that counts."