Amps for Christ – “Black Eyed Susan”/”March of the Mountain”/”Tel Aviv”/”2 Inches per Hour”

Amps for Christ levitate their 4-sided triangle with the assistance of some homemade amps, a few jostled oscillators, and of course, Our Lord and Savior. Like many of the other band sites I’ve visited for research purposes, ampsforchrist.com mentions nothing of the California contribution, so I have no helpful notes to guide me along this barefoot journey to hallelula-la land.

The last AFC album I bought was the Electrosphere 2CD, and yeah…this still sounds pretty much the same, albeit more focused and slightly more experimental. Less songs, more “pieces.”

"Black Eyed Susan” is closest this side gets to a noise track – burbling, broken-sounding electronics over shortwave static, oscillators that resemble horns being played ineptly, all laid over a low bed of bass clippings that resembles the extra credit question from the Sahko after-school oscillator lab. Vocals enter, similar to Jessica Rylan’s “Casting a Spell,” voice and oscillator fighting it out for dominance within the same quarter-inch cord. A low bass-pulse follows along with the melody. Later, a violin saws away, oblivious. This track completely schools much of what passes these days for undiluted psilocybin in the Wyrd Forest. Superb.

“March of the Mountain” is guitar, banjo, sitar, and AFC’s patented “oscillators played like bagpipes.” The melody on the bagpipillators is a fairly famous song…I’m hardly an expert on the subject, but through the years, I’ve clocked lots of hours (high double-digits, say) at highland festivals around the Midwest, so trust me, I know I’ve heard this particular tune played by groups at all levels of pipe proficiency. Of course, I’ll be arsed if I know its actual title…I don’t think it’s usually referred to as “March of the Mountain.”

(Incidentally, while going through my bagpipe tapes to try and find this track’s real title, I discovered that there’s a pipe tune called “Hamilton’s Nutsack.” Huh? No, why don’t YOU come up with a punchline, you lazy fucker!)

“Tel Aviv” starts with spoken word over Conet-ish shortwave fear and dried-pod clatterings. “That bird frets on the edge, hungry.” “Dropped orb, flesh of flesh, sine wave.” You get the idea. As the oscillators begin to really wail at the end, the track picks up a bit of interest.

“2 Inches per Hour.” The rain pours down, and a distant, fuzzy violin solo is heard from afar, sounding like a street musician who plays mostly to keep his mind from wandering to his freezing bones. Soon, a second violinist comes by and starts a duet with him; she takes his mind off his troubles for a while. They don’t play naturally or intuitively together, but the dissonance and uncomfortable, fumbling transitions mystify and intrigue them. They later get married in a civil service at the courthouse, move to a dry climate, and live out their golden years in 1/2 of a sparsely-furnished duplex, working a procession of minimum wage temp jobs, trying to figure out why they planned their entire life around one somewhat magical afternoon in the rain.

In short, this is a confusing choice of artist for this comp (kind of like inviting your hippie uncle over for a marathon of the Guinea Pig movies), but as always, AFC provides a satisfying and, dare it be said, consistent listen. If you've heard it all, you've heard this one.