By Jack Rafferty
My first encounter with black midi was a performance recorded by KEXP. The first thing that is revealed as the camera fades from black and the band is introduced is…some kids in a hostel in Reykjavik. They look no older than fourteen. The listener is barely given a moment to take in the room, the words Iceland Airwaves furled in the curtains, the vague disembodied heads and obscure figurines on the shelves, the duct-taped guitars and new sneakers mingling with multichromatic pedals on the floor. Then the first discordant, oddly strummed distorted scrapings of their music leaps from their scrawny forms. Before I could notice much else, I was drawn to the drumming, and how immaculate it was. It was immediately clear that this rolling and crashing, yet technically proficient, aspect of their sound would be at the forefront, that it would be the foundation around which the gorgeous disharmonies of the guitar and vocal melodies would arrange themselves. I also took note of how much space in the mix they gave to the bass, something I deeply appreciated, as it is lush and works as an adhesive to the otherwise unruly chord progressions and notes being played. The vocals also must be noted, for they are unique to my ears. At times muttered to the point of being indistinguishable, at others shrieked. While every member except the drummer provides vocals to some degree, it is Geordie Greep, the band’s front figure, who I want to focus upon in this case. At times sounding like a creature chanting incantations in a dark forest, others like an ancient tinker peddling mystic miscellany, it is freakish and intriguing in all the best ways. He is (in tone) like Jello Biafra at his most satirically demonic and beguiling.
Fast forward a bit. It is mid-summer and I have been aware of this band for months, but haven’t heard much since this performance. Thankfully the algorithms that so keenly observe my doings and interests in the overtrodden digital void of the internet took care of me for once, and recommended midi’s debut album, Schlagenheim, when it dropped. I eagerly delved in as soon as I could, hoping that the energy and character of their sound would not be lost or diluted in the studio. I won’t beat around the bush or ask any paragraph-concluding hook questions regarding my feelings on this album. It is brilliant. In a year when Lightning Bolt releases an album, and it isn’t my favorite experimental/noise rock album, that’s a big deal. Schlagenheim is bizarre, eruptive, mysterious, and subtle where it needs to be.
The overall avant-garde approach that black midi takes to their music could easily be misinterpreted as structureless and meandering chaos to those less inclined to enjoy experimental music, but while they may come off as improvisational at times (the track “bmbmbm,” for example), one of the things that strikes me most about this band is how exceptional their songwriting is, especially considering how early in their music career they are. They have a deep understanding and feel for pacing with each of their songs. They know how to articulate and adapt within the specific character of each song, while also maintaining a consistent thematic sound throughout the album. While manic at times, Schlagenheim always remains compositionally dense, and never ventures into levels of masturbatory technicality or experimental noodling. It is easy for anyone to simply play disharmoniously, but it is damn difficult to compose that type of sound into organization. To reel in something as chaotic and energetic as that is enough for it to walk that fine line of being simultaneously strange, gentle, howling, eerie, aggressive, and music that is enjoyable to listen to is rare.
Intent is displayed pretty on-the-nose here, as the name “black midi” is a rather esoteric genre consisting of exceedingly complex amounts and arrangements of notes. Zappa has tangled with this genre before, which is appropriate, as he comes to mind at times when listening to them. However, black midi is set apart from the genre they take their name from, as complexity is not the priority here. At times, especially in the vocal delivery and the overall weirdness of the sound, I am reminded of Primus, though only in minor ways. I am also hearing a lot of King Crimson and Talking Heads comparisons being made. Regardless of this, midi remains entirely their own entity.
Another highlight of this album is the lyrics. Admittedly on my first few listens I was too enraptured by the music and I paid little attention to what was being said. While many of the lyrics throughout can appear repetitious on the surface, when applied to midi’s songs they gain a certain verbal formula, as though an invocation that lends to the more mythic tones of what is being conveyed and felt. There are single lines peppered throughout that are also damn good. One of my favorites being “He’s got a coat of nine tails and fresh leather shoes/ Straight from the cow/ But my shirt is so un-ironed it could be a mountain range/ My shoes, the rotting flesh of mange” from the track “Reggae.” There are also more politically charged lyrics, like those in “Near DT, MI,” about the structural racist assault on the health and lives of the people of Flint, “There’s lead in the water and you think that I’m fine/ I’m stained by the water and only the water/ I’m drained by the water, are you losing your mind?/ Dead in the water, dead in the water.” One of the more overt lyrical oddities on this album is the deranged delivery of a single idea on the track “bmbmbm,” where Greep fixates upon a woman who “moves with a purpose” then applies improvisational variations in tone, cadence, word arrangement, etc. throughout the track. It is playful, the pacing builds wonderfully, and the climax of the track is fucking manic and one of the most satisfying on the album.
I must praise once more the percussion on this album. Morgan Simpson is utterly brilliant. The drumming is air-tight, yet still has a vibrancy and energy that staves off any misconceptions that such precision is lifeless or overly technical. I mentioned Lightning Bolt above, and Simpson’s style at times is reminiscent of Chippendale, which is a high compliment. My initial impression that he would be the foundation is only reinforced now. He is the driving force of this album. This isn’t to say that Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin’s guitar work alongside Greep’s are not to be regarded. On the contrary, this album would not be what it is without the atonality, or at times elusively gentle, eccentricity of their style. It would be easy to forget the bass amid such competing sound in most cases, but Cameron Picton’s playing is stellar, and the production does a good job keeping it present in the mix. The introduction of piano, synths, accordions, and other instrumental additions also provide new layers of intricacy to these tracks, without drowning out what makes them great. The toppings are never overladen.
Overall, black midi does right in understanding that when it comes to noisy, frantic, experimental rock music, the intensity originates most in the passion and emotion that is conveyed, not the blistering presentation of talented musicians. The latter only serves to aid what becomes the heart and soul of what you are creating. Schlagenheim is disheveled, sinister, visceral, groovy-yet-off-kilter, eccentric yet not pretentious, and boldly uninhibited. It’s mathy, jazzy, proggy, noisy, and a true joy to listen to. The maturity in songwriting quality is staggering when considering the band members are just out of high school and that this is their debut. Strongest of recommendations for this one. I look forward to the new visions that will bloom from these creative minds.
