Chicks On Speed, Experimental Dental School & Razor Death Squad

Razor Death Squad, a local five piece metallic-edged band started off the evening with a seemingly endless sound check, eventually progressing into a set of heavy guitars, shrieking vocals, off-kilter rhythms and sonically piercing keyboards. The best aspect of their sound was their guitar tones - both complementary and heavy as fuck. I also enjoyed how they used their keyboards as a texturally disaggregate tone, a crystalline high to counter their dirty lows. As far as the drumming was concerned, a metronome is in dire need. Serious. They'd be twice as destructive without the continual sloppy speed-ups and slow-downs. Razor Death Squad is definitely not for the weak of stomach.
With a near instantaneous set change, Experimental Dental School's tangy and pungent musical flavors enveloped The Senator's large hall. Formerly of Chico, the duo recently became a trio with the addition of a new drummer. Apparently, they chose the right one. His broken down sideshow styling fit Experimental Dental School's drunken pirate-meets psychedelic Mariachi band panache with utmost perfection. With original EDS songs and some re-incorporated material from Meyow (a former band including guitarist / bassist / vocalist Jesse and keyboardist / sampler-artist Shoko as well as Nik and Paul from Chico's electro-experimental group V), the band's vibe was cohesive and entirely unique. Unfortunately, I think they blew out a P.A. speaker, the result sounding like a tuba set on fire. Which was cool, I suppose. Sure, some technical bolts still need to be tightened, but the music's there. Maybe the band's sound has coalesced into a state of oblong beauty, or perhaps I'm just happy to be hearing old Meyow material again. Either way, their performance was grand and well worth the price of admission.
The headliner was like nothing I've ever seen; three "chicks," some electronic gizmos, a couple of microphones and a computer running the show, and all-the-while a series of loosely-related films were being broadcast above. The music was to the show as honesty is to politics, merely a façade. The film's disjointed nature (random shots of the Chicks walking around Germany, in their office, at random shows, washing laundry in a bath tub with their feet, etc.) was probably expressing or destroying some artistic principle, but if so it went right over my head. I did like the shots of them playing with raw eggs, but hey, I'm into that sort of thing. Yuck.
However, you got to hand it to them - their lack of musical talent, inability to sing in more than a dreary monotone and an absence of dance skills hasn't stopped the Chicks On Speed from performing their individualized style of dance-y synth-pop. At least they were having a blast, singing cover tunes in a bland unison while fooling about. They danced like ninnies, pulling moves that most teenagers do while dancing in the seclusion of their bedroom to the likes of The Bangles or The B52s. Their deconstruction of music as a response to society's homogenization of art is a great idea in theory, but in practice it was fairly ridiculous. Fuck your silly art, I just want to rock. Is that so wrong? If playing with Barbie dolls constitutes building relationships, and you consider The Shaggs your musical heroes, you'll probably like Chicks On Speed. I appreciate the fact that they're attempting to do something new, but if it's in my power I will never see them again.
- Maurice S. Teilmann
- photos by Jeff Shaner

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