Only
Jamie Saft would form a band that would open its record with music no one ever wants to hear again: the perverse music played on the ice cream truck that sort of sounds like
Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer." But that's only a hint of the sickness further in. The
Vivian Sisters are
Saft playing guitars, basses, clarinets, Turkish organs, and all kinds of other stuff, and
Laura Cromwell, who plays drums, guitar, kalimba, mini-Moog, and screams her fool head off -- except for two tracks when that pleasant task is relegated to Vanessa Hodge. But
Vivian Sisters couldn't realize the grandiosity of
Saft's and
Cromwell's extreme vision of depravity if it weren't for friends like
Zeena Parkins and her electric harp,
Briggan Krauss who plays something called a water baritone on "Worry," the glass chomped vocals of Mr. Dorgon, and the bass clarinet and guitars of
Andrew D'Angelo and
Adam Levy, respectively. Now that the lineup is complete, it's time to ask just what the devil
Vivian Sisters sound like. They sound like kids making funny noises and causing trouble.
Vivian Sisters make music like the same kids with watercolors, bare walls, and no parental supervision. There are 15 tracks here, and none of them escape the charge of "extreme musical perversity." That said, this record is more fun than playing with your sister's favorite doll behind her back. This is sinister, demented rock & roll strangled through a truckload of primitive sound effects, and is then mutilated by free improvisation. This is downtown New York no-wave all dressed up in a snazzy package with someplace to destroy. It's truly impossible to discuss this kind of anarchy in musical terms, because this smart-assed raucousness even makes fun of the free improv scene. And that's part of the disc's charm: This music has no idols; it exists because there is nothing better to do and if you don't like it -- you know what to do. But I do like it, a lot. I hear a universe of irreverent sound combined with good-natured aggression put together by musicians who are having a type of fun that it takes years of practice to learn how to have. You can actually hear the undoing of musical assumptions and the remaking of conceptual notions about noise, texture, color, and what an ensemble is supposed to be. These are soundscapes created by a massive effort, full of humor, mischief, and knife-edged creativity.
Vivian Sisters aren't for everybody, but for those interested in the outer rim of musical expression, this is a great place to get lost for a while.