Nothing can foil the pigeonholing into a genre like a clarinet. The band uses this and other analog sounds to weave minimalism and maximalism, presenting recognizable indie or songwriter tropes before smashing them in their musical supercollider.
For a quarter century, Dirk Dresselhaus has been putting out sparse, intelligent electronic compositions that even at their calmest crackle with some subtle form of nervous energy.
Soulful beats in the style of old-school acid jazz, mostly instrumental.
On Halloween I fell asleep to this horror-punk platter playing, and dreamt of whirling in a mosh pit in a toxic swamp, catching elbows and knees from zombie alligators and bouncing off leaking radioactive waste barrels. I woke up covered in bruises.