Boredoms’s 88Boadrum @ La Brea Tar Pits, 8/8/08

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Boredoms
PHOTO: Mandatory cellphone shot by the author. Check out Sung’s hot shots for P4K here.

ShhhhshhhhshhhhhshhhhhshhhhhhshhhhhshhhhhhhhshhhhhWWOMPP…
ShhhhshhhhshhhhhshhhhhshhhhhhshhhhhshhhhhhWWOMPPWWOMPP…
ShhhhshhhhshhhhhshhhhhshhhhhhshhhhWWOMPPWWOMPPWWOMPP…
88Boadrum is underway. Ride cymbals tingled and hissed and tom womps cut and get closer and closer and closer together, and dusk hardens in the sky over the La Brea Tar Pits. After a bit of intro, Eye of Boredoms, our de facto conductor of the proceedings, lets rip a Yoko-quality primal scream that is somewhere between battle cry and birthing pain. Airing opposite the eye-/mind-defying Bejiing opening ceremonies—or rather, opposite the time until which GE/NBC has freed them from embargo jail for broadcast—the gathering of 88 drummers could have been dismissed as a mere stunt, but the general infrastructural success and overall good vibes should have disarmed even the most jaded. The music itself could easily have been incidental to what would have still been a pretty damn impressive furniture arrangement even if silent, but somehow the crazy mess worked, alternating in feel from tight lock groove tightness to loose improvisation and back again. Progressing from tribal pound to backbeat to rave thump, with one or two free jazz explosions thrown in, whooshes of warm white noise oscillator beds shifted pitch like chord changes, dredging up images of pushing through hyperspace. Electric noise clangs of various pitch were gonged out by Eye with a scepter on some kind of rack/ladder sculpture and broke things up pleasingly now and again, the closest we got to actual melody tonight. The piece, which went longer than the originally billed 88 minutes, might vaguely be thought of as an accompaniment to Kubrick’s 2001, going from the dawn of primates through to deep space exploration. Or not. 8 thumbs up.