Moth Drakula – “In Heaven, Everything is Fine”

There’s so many ways to slice and dice source material, it’s always refreshing to hear people finding a new approach. For the hyperspeed quick-cut school (and those who can simulate it live through their equipment), noise is like an endless succession of subliminal images, where split-second pictures of war, teddy bears, reading glasses, a basket of fruit, the words “Have a beer!,” etc. flash before your eyes, no particular image as important as the overall impression of your brain being pureed. For the militant harshheads on the other hand, noise is more like a Tarkovsky flick, in which the object must me lovingly gazed upon for a considerable duration in order to truly reach its center.

In Moth Drakula’s case, the answer lies in between. I notice about six primary edits which cut the track into discrete episodes, rearranging our environment completely along the way. It’s like opening the front door of your domicile to find a well-manicured lawn outside, then closing the door, opening it again, only to find yourself looking at basement of a decrepit factory, an abandoned gas station, the rim of a churning volcano, a high-voltage electrical tower, or a special room in hell where the damned are fed feet first into a very slow chipper-shredder.

It’s not just the jarring location-changes that work, but their timing…this side-long track is gauged for maximum anthemic fist-pumping, as that whinnying high sound goes higher, higher, higher, then cuts, drifts, drifts, and then...KAPOW!! Right in the mush. It’s maybe not a new idea (“quiet, then loud, then quiet – they’ll never expect that!”), but as any comedian, musician, sprint runner, or escaped convict can tell you, a split-second can change everything, and Moth Drakula work that extra half-beat of tension well enough to make it feel like they invented something new.

Noise in the ‘90s seemed like an all or nothing game – you were either a total spaz or depressed corpse. Fast or slow only. When I heard Pedestrian Deposit’s Volatile for the first time, I remembered thinking that a third path had been discovered, and that it was possible to have it both ways without compromising impact. While much of the Moth Drakula I’ve heard so far has been more unidirectional (and short), this approach of combining discrete elements into one larger piece gives the piece a different kind of momentum – it never get enough steam going to really qualify it as a “rager,” but the diverse approach will probably return this to my turntable many more times, even after the boxset has been shelved until further notice.