Black Mold
Snow Blindness is Crystal Antz
Rating: 2.0/5.0
Label: Flemish Eye
Chad VanGaalen is not a genius, though he wants you to think so. Genius can give way to arrogance, and Snow Blindness is Crystal Antz is about as pretentious as it gets. VanGaalen didn’t cross this fine line, as much as pole-vault it. With three full-length albums and two EPs under his belt, it could be argued that he’s earned his stripes and the right to indulge his artistic flow. When attempts to ride that flow are bungled, the result can be mind-numbing.
If you like watching static on television, please allow Black Mold’s Snow Blindness to act as soundtrack. Random bleeps and burps make up most of this attempt at fat-beat electronica, minus any fat beats. This is the sound robots would have sex to. The eighth track, “Fuck Ebay,” sounds like an over-caffeinated kid discovering the drum demos on his Casio. The album continues in this same vein; think Radiohead circa Amnesiac, sans the rhythm and…the Radiohead.
Experimenting is one thing, but throwing spaced-out sounds with weak support just creates boring noise. “Toxic Lake” had promise, starting out with a phasey Daft Punk sound, yet 20 seconds into it, the direction takes a dive into the kiddy section of the pool, with completely random sound effects. “Tetra Packs Heads” is similar, however there is a semblance of some composure, having a steady drum track underneath what sounds like empty soda bottles being wrapped by spoons, yet it doesn’t take long before the repetition takes over and sleep induction begins. There is an obvious lack of artistic maturity throughout almost every song, giving way to pure experimental walks down empty roads with nothing substantial to show for it.
There are some successes, however. “Gummed Desk,” a throwback to Massive Attack cut with a little Morcheeba, has a smooth backbeat and Atari sound effects, making it an early standout. “Uke Puke” may be a Chemical Brothers rip, but it holds its own with strings plucked over a beat that would have made Def Jam proud back in ’86. “Wet Ferns” sounds like what the title implies, drums sampled in falling rain patterns and a synthesizer lazily meandering. This is by far the longest track, coming in just under six minutes, which leads us to another positive – the average song is about two and a half minutes long. Having 19 tracks totaling just under 45 minutes in length makes for a quick pace, and in this effort, the sooner the song is over, the better.
The overall effort is less music and more confused electronic sound effects in no discernible order. With only a small handful of listenable tracks, this album is better left on the shelf. VanGaalen is no electronica wizard, but more of a performance artist you’d be embarrassed to listen to. True electronica fans will be disappointed with the lack of workable beats and the average listeners will be asking themselves “What the fuck am I listening to?”
by Josh Vietti
