Noise-rock duo No Age will perform at Empty Bottle in May.
What We Say
With the world around us bruised and bloodied with teeth already dug into the concrete curb, we find ourselves with the shadow of a large boot looming overhead. What better time for NO AGE? Remember, they are the ones who first brought you the hospital-bed-feel-good-anthem, “Get Hurt” (2007). They know how to ecstatically rage and power on thru pain, because what else are you gonna do? The future belongs to the cockroaches, and this record is made for the disparate band of misfits who 2017 couldn’t kill.
Yeah. New NO AGE! Not new age NO AGE (except for the odd “Sun Spots”/“Keechie”-style shimmer that only ever makes everything better), but definitely an age of album-making located somewhere beyond and back from where we last heard ’em in aught-13, when they’d wrapped their process in as much deconstruction as An Object could bear. Reimagined rippers, compelling ever forward; something that provokes challenges on the ear — that was always the goal, but after a few years spent not NO AGE-ing, just working on that thing called life, is it any wonder that Dean and Randy wanted to pump out some rock and roll for the black hole? Does time mean nothing to you? Don’t answer that.
BEHAVIOR is a band from Los Angeles formed in 2012. They’ve released two LP’s: 375 Images of Angels (2016) and Bitter Bitter(2017) on Iron Lung Records. Bitter Bitter was written and recorded in Los Angeles early last fall, just before the latest drought broke, and just before a cynical national election made the ongoing arrangement very plain. It’s a simple music, crafted according to a shifting ad hoc agreement between three friends who try and share the labor, who borrow promiscuously from whatever finds them, who try and garner enough space to intuit a next stumbling move in restless hopscotch across a pop music tradition that has tallied an unlivable inheritance of promises.
There’s a desire for tension with BEHAVIOR, a desire for fraudulent postures, a desire for drama and its perverse digressions. The song is traversed by other songs, the voice is traversed by other voices, the singer never held the title to their own tongue—nosing uninvited into darkened houses for what’s ripe and fermenting. The title of the record is a translation of the name given to the ocean on a Babylonian map thought to be the oldest depiction of the world. The cover is a mask of swatches. A shroud of ribbons. Bitter Bitter is an imprint and an agitation, wrapped like a circus in an exterminator’s tent. Countless fluttering images hoisted like flags above countless shrinking islands in a rising sea. Contempt, mercy, grief and good will. Is it a timely attitude?