They’re nailing something close to unique
Black Dice’s music is never quite several different things, and the boor in us could almost get fighty with them about it. Having made their name on DFA Records in the mid-‘00s, the Brooklyn trio clearly crib from the weirder end of house and techno – but ‘Mr Impossible’, their sixth album, is intentionally disjointed, arrhythmic and wears boots of musique concrete. Equally, their reputation as noisy irritants precedes them, yet the insouciance of calling a track ‘Pinball Wizard’ (it’s definitely not a Who cover) doesn’t quite square with its insistent snare-crack, wah pedal massage and squishy synth buggery. They’re an acquired taste rather than an extreme one at this point: ‘Shithouse Drifter’ isn’t as vicar-offendingly vulgar as you might expect, although the sound of sewer mutants trying to cover Autechre on live instruments probably isn’t for everyone. As bewilderingly little logic as Black Dice’s rave collages contain, they’re nailing something close to unique.