BIZARRE UPROAR "High Risk Lifestyle" CD (Filth & Violence)
My relationship to the music of Bizarre Uproar is somewhat similar to my relationship to The Rita's. The sound is awesome to the point of tearjerking, the concept leaves me almost completely numb. There are, in both cases, exceptions that actually strengthen the comparison: sea monsters and sharks are cool, and often the B.U. aesthetic makes me forget that I don't care that much for the whole "gospel of the flesh" thing. Still, that I enjoy listening to these acts so much, while not being very interested in their central thematic ideas, is a testament to the fact that noise isn't just about slapping something ideological onto a piece of whatever you recorded in your basement - the actual "music" matters more than anyone not into the genre might guess. And as far as "music" goes, here would be the place to point out that High Risk Lifestyle is something very different from Ballet Feet Positions, in case anyone had any doubts about that. Rich, often multilayered piles of noise assault the ears - various frequencies at various levels of distortion. Virtually never annoying - whenever the pitch starts pushing your nerves, things break down into pleasantly crunching lo/mid harshness, but there is a power electronics edge here. Decent variety within and between the two tracks, perfect for focused earphone listening as well as for metalesque car stereo rocking out, or some equally metalesque pre party setting. That, by the way, is the most substantial difference between The Rita and Bizarre Uproar - even more substantial than the fact that they don't really sound alike at all: the latter has a whole metal/punk/GG Allin redux type of thing going on, that often manifests itself in live settings, but is equally obvious in the pure sonic experience. This difference, however, also underscores a similarity: The Rita's quasi-autistic focus on a single or a few themes per album is also almost perfectly expressed in the carefully sculpted sounds/walls. So while I'm limited to enjoying mainly the sonic half of both bands (as well as wondering what on God's green earth that woman is doing to Mr. Uproar in the booklet of this CD - is that vomit?), I am also pleasantly surprised that I'm not spending my life pretending to listen to sub-par nonsense that can only gain legitimacy from extra-musical factors. This is, if not art, so at least a hell of a rock album.
