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Mark,
mad scientist of Evolution Control Committee, makes the world
go ’round with his Thimbletron. *
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The little red-dressed girl steals a toy keyboard from their table, and runs up the aisle with her tongue hanging out. Seconds later, an exasperated guardian is in pursuit. The music still grinding, the keyboard is soon returned to its rightful locale onstage. Dead Air Fresheners keep their sound big, mesmerizing, and freakin’ loud. Against this background, Chuck Swaim becomes a lizard king monster of spoken word. Televisions illuminate his roars of possessed poetry. "The mind’s eye shuts for the very last time!" he repeats. After a howl of appreciation rises from those assembled, he gives a sincere "Thank you," complete with devil horns. Where do these geniuses come from, anyway? Are they hiding out, waiting for the next wave of cultural curiosity to grant them gigs and audiences? "In Olympia, anyway, there'll be barely anything," says Duckhugger of experimental shows, "And then bam!!! All these great bands will pop out of nowhere… A lot of times it just seems kinda like there’s all these people doing creative and interesting things in their own houses and such, and then every once in a while they'll bring out what they've been working on. "Like a bunch of creepy-crawly creatures, twisting and turning, hidden beneath the floorboards." Googly Eyes Olympia World News is now completely dark. The comfortable daytime crowd grows bigger, and the room more crowded. A couple of DJs (male, as are most of the performers here) start off on an interesting note, spinning googly-eye masks around their faces. All too soon, The Bran Flakes are looking concerned and harried, a marked contrast to earlier acts. Laptops and turntables spin and whir, and there’s not much to look at. For those of us who generally find the DJ aesthetic bland, there’s not much to hear, either – just the usual wash of loops and beats. Nor is there much booty onstage for the barefoot future kleptomaniac to abscond with. But when a children’s record is sampled, she gamely attempts to lip-sync along with the cutup girly voice, mugging at the audience in the near-darkness. |
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