Has anyone noticed that there has been a fair amount of interest in 2000s-era music and culture lately? That gotten on anyone’s radar? Though I am ambivalent about reliving my youth—I was obviously a dumbass; my involvement in bloghouse, for example, was peripheral enough that I have been written out of any retroactive histories—I do feel a weird desire to talk about yet another community I existed on the edge of. I’m talking about a 2000s-era scene that maybe actually pushed a few boundaries. I’m talking about a scene that was punk and psychedelic, smart and dumb, wacky and brooding, inspiring and embarrassing. I’m talking about noise.
Within a larger continuum of unlistenable music, the 2000s American take on the style had its own specific spark. It had the same energy I liked in punk, only amplified, abstracted and stretched far outside the lines. It had a scrappiness that was mostly absent from the careerist indie rock and electronic music of the same era. It was homespun chaos—the sound of a circuit bent Casio screeching on the floor of a weed-stained warehouse; the sound of a seven-person shove pit at an art gallery in a second-tier Midwestern city; the sound of a cryptic CD-R, spray painted and housed in a case full of feathers.
It’s not like noise has gone anywhere. But the gonzo 2000s boom seemed to beget a whole different aesthetic in the 2010s, one marked by poker faced academic impulses, synth worship, and… Techno. For a fleeting, special period, the American noise underground championed an anything-goes spirit, the documentation of which feels almost lost to time. (Ossian Wynne Winningham moved through these worlds for many, many years; he has been chronicling these experiences on his amazing blog. Recommended reading.)
I have no problem with the electroclash revival. In fact, I like some of it. But listen up, kids: if you really, truly, want to fuck up your 20s, don’t half-ass it; go all the way. Start a noise project.
Hair Police “Live Empty Bottle, Chicago 4/7/2002”
The line between what one might consider noise or noise rock or no wave is porous, but for the purpose of this blog post, I’m not including shit like Arab On Radar or Coughs, or even Neon Hunk or Lightning Bolt. Rainbow rock will get its own entry at some point. The folk-cusp New Weird America shit is its own conversation altogether… Where was I? Kentucky’s Hair Police, who, despite the rock band formation, teeter on the noise side of noise rock. This video reads as both a parody of hardcore and an actual good hardcore show. It’s full of stage invasions and pile-ons and fist pumping. Hair Police member Robert Beatty is now a famous artist and illustrator, possibly best known for creating a Tame Impala album cover.
Occasional Detroit “Live at Jaspers, Salem, Oregon October 2006”
I could do an entire book on Occasional Detroit, an entire art show, an entire documentary. Sadly, the band seems to be mostly forgotten. You want to talk about noise rap? Well, Occasional Detroit was there first, in the early 2000s, playing shows in Michigan with Wolf Eyes. I went on an ill-fated tour with the band the same year as this video. I feel bad that I was never able to reconcile with Towando, but now I feel a duty to help keep their legacy alive. They were fully singular and found a home within a noise scene that, at the time, saw value in outsider work that didn’t make sense elsewhere.
Metalux “Live at Cake Shop, New York 2007”
Metalux have their roots in the ‘90s Midwestern no wave scene that served as a major percussor to a good portion of the music I’m talking about here: They played in Bride Of No No with Azita Youssefi of Scissor Girls. Here the duo’s homespun guitar-and-electronix crunch is complemented by the clip’s 240p fidelity. Old noise YouTube videos sound incredible. It’s distorted music further distorted by primitive digital compression.
Dead Machines “Live at Eagles Nest Northampton, MA 2005”
Dead Machines was a project of the husband-and-wife duo John and Tovah Olson. I think they still might play occasionally? I’m not sure. It makes sense that John Olson turned into a trip metal meme master, because this clip is essentially stand-up comedy through a delay pedal. There are some jokes here that I only understand because I was going to shows back then. About psychedelic tourmates Wooden Wand & The Vanishing Voice: “A lot of knees on the ground, but that’s cool.” Knee noise. Floor toms. The whole crossover between noise and folk and drone—too much to get into here. Probably not enough West Coast coverage in this post. What can I say? A lot of those bands were not hitting Milwaukee.
Was Forcefield a rainbow rock band? I don’t think so. They were an art collective who made sometimes-rhythmic noise music. But the crew came out of Providence’s legendary Fort Thunder space and no doubt were a major inspiration to a whole generation of hypercolor-damaged, mask-clad ragers. What is rainbow rock? I can say what I said when I interviewed Macula Dog a few months ago: It is distorted arpeggios and neon.
Narwhalz (of sound) “Live at SXSW 2009”
Another act that fits within the rainbow rock and noise venn diagram is Narwhalz (of sound). Brian Blomerth is now a celebrated illustrator who makes books about the creation of LSD and designs posters for Phish. Back in the day he was tearing up the American underground with a style of Gameboy music that was half pixelated gabber and half insult comedy. Here, he plays outdoors in Austin to maybe 10 people. Somehow, this list contains multiple now-successful visual artists engaging in a bit of playfully violent wrestling.
Rainbow Blanket “Live at Che Cafe, Ja Jolla, CA 2005”
The cool thing about noise gigs back in the day was that the sets were so damn short. This one clocks in at under four minutes. Rainbow Blanket was a So-Cal sibling duo: Jeff and Greg Witscher. Jeff is still very much in the game, having traversed the underground for a good portion of the past twenty years. His recent work with Jack Callahan is musique concrete for the TikTok era. Back in 2005, though, he was going for it with his brother. The name Rainbow Blanket suggests rainbow rock, but this is actually pure pedal-and-drums madness. Beautiful looking noise table.
Prurient “Live at RRRecords, Lowell, MA December 15, 2002”
Prurient is a good enough performer that I understand why he influenced a generation of confused screamo kids to ditch their guitars and start yelling over walls of feedback. It's not my favorite strain of noise, but his set at Darling Hall in 2004 blew my mind. Here he plays at Emil Beaulieau’s record store—Beaulieau was a crucial link between ‘90s noise and the next generation. This show has that awkward, lights-on style: Prurient doesn’t have the amp stacks yet; he’s blasting away through a Peavey.
Nautical Almanac “Live at Pocket Sandwich, Tallahassee, FL 10/30/2005”
On their 2005 tour, Baltimore’s Nautical Almanac was a trio of Twig Harper, Carly Ptak and Max Eisenberg—the latter would go on to make music as DJ Dog Dick. Without going too deep, there were certain Fleetwood Mac-esque interpersonal dynamics at play in this configuration of the band, which naturally bled into their performance style. Here, the two men rattle and burble and scrape and creak; all the while, Ptak remains a hypnotic, stoic force, like a castle standing in a storm of skronk. Legendary American band.
Black Dice “Live at Chain Reaction, Anaheim, CA 2000”
Remember when I said I wasn’t going to be fucking with the rock end of noise for this blog post? I had to make an exception for Black Dice, who were an actual hardcore punk band whose early music was so chaotic and jarring (Void meets The Dead C) that it almost tipped over into abstraction. They played noise in a context that was not looking for art. Take this video: their confrontational feedback-damaged HC is met with confusion and aggression at OC straight edge hotspot Chain Reaction. Speaking of straight edge… There is a legendary story about the band playing a basement show in Milwaukee and then getting their van tires slashed by some SxE kids afterwards. Black Dice would go on to tip over the edge completely when they released the fully psychedelic Beaches and Canyons in 2003. That was the start of a 20-year career of constant change. Black Dice member Bjorn Copeland: another accomplished visual artist.
I still talk about that Prurient set at Darling Hall. A Top-10-All-Timer for me, for sure.
I saw this newsletter and immediate was like, “No way that Blomerth video ain’t in there.”