Black Dice

Our great nation boasts no shortage of noise-rock artists and bands: There's a vile, incestuous cornucopia overflowing into cramped basement venues that are actually people's apartments and Forced Exposure/Fusetron/Eclipse storage spaces. Double Leopards stir sonic blizzards; Prurient pursue a nihilistic, static-saturated extremism; at their most intense, Sightings' stylings suggest a junkyard of rusty cars being violently disemboweled. All of which is fine, good, and totally gnarly, but as far as we're aware, NYC trio Black Dice are the only practitioners in this genre who are willing and able to eradicate any sense of time and continuity in their music. Blips and streamers of instruments familiar and exotic are shakily Möbius-stripped and force-fed into cracked, conflict-cubic-zirconia constellations likely to cause epileptic fits in your average 12-CD-a-year Top 40 listener. The group's handful of side projects are no less incoherent. What all of this means is that tonight's show may seem three times longer than it actually is, and whether or not that's a problem says a lot about you. With Skoal Kodiak.
Tue., Nov. 6, 7 p.m., 2007