Lye By Mistake once had a vocalist who would guard the keyboards on stage, gyrate, produce…: bizarre ideas involving “Aboriginal Negatives” (will always love that title) and “900 Seconds In Search Of Jerry” as afterthoughts. All the hardline instrumental discipline that composed Arrangements For Fulminating Vective was invaded by off keel patterns of vocals that were nothing remarkable, but the words filled all the idiosyncratic cracks in the riff salad, soup, starter and main – the kind of vocalist who could say “to hell” with the proper line of chilled spoons and different sized forks on the table. Sorry, for the un-introduced; in the beginning, Lye By Mistake ripped apart time signatures at a frenetic rate, all while trying on genre jackets at the same thrift store Crotchduster visits. Enhear a less morbid Car Bomb, or a jazz fusion blend of Willowtip Records’s best. On the seventh day, Tony Saputo leaves band, leaves with the mortar all those screams provided, leaves Jonnie Pokket, Max Tempo, and Josh Bauman aware of a new dilemma. Disjointed riffs and composition are thorny pills to swallow, but with anguished howls coating it with food colouring, suddenly this music clicks as “chaotic”, “intense”, “crucial”… Lye By Mistake is now loosed to confirm that their chops come with far reaching understanding. Fea Jur.
The trio had choices, of course. They toured with Dillinger Escape Plan and Between The Buried And Me for God’s sake, hardly unbecoming of a band getting the best exposure possible in their arena. Critically lauded by even the staunchest of ‘zines and sites (eventually being signed to one), a line up change was something that could be remedied by pooling from the company they kept. And so, the choice to go instrumental on Fea Jur is not so much out of necessity, but to pitch a statement, and make it an invisible one without a vocalist turning it into words; the lyrics on Fea Jur are; “I should not be here, I should not be here, I should not be here.” Fea Jur is grand, with hundreds of memorable musicisms tripping over each other, bottlenecking at the ear, playing trampoline in all the areas of the brain. There is a mega stomp at the 2:33 mark in “Vanguard To Nowhere”. A glorious fusion smile at 2:27 in “Invincible Badass”. A smooth jazz bow at 1: 28 in “The Condition” – three of at least 25 individual moments that make the bundle of concepts we prescribe to “music” feel vivid, invigorating, brand shiny new. Then, then, one must relate these to the itchy influences that are too close for comfort. “Vanguard To Nowhere” begins with signature Colin Marston bass taps. “Invincible Badass” finishes out with noodles straight off Wardenclyffe Tower. “The Condition”’s first minute is half an Intronaut song. These are all reputable influences, and arguably the wisest to draw from when building instrument driven heavy music. It only feels like transcription – Not a conscious effort that mimics the individual composers, but emulates the hallmark they built. That is to say, Lye By Mistake wants in the club, and these photocopies are on the laundry list of dumb shit to accomplish to get them in the tree house.
However you feel about the similarities, the musicianship is unsurprisingly the apex of ability in all respective fields. “Clinic calibre” does not even reach for the versatility of fretwork in “Missouri Tomater”, or the solo bass acrobatics anchoring “Fea Jur”. It is disciplined, rapid, and achieves a mastery of technique as well as theoretical knowledge. To feel that Bauman’s crescendos, Pokket’s busy-ness, and Max Tempo’s Brooklyn jazz-outs are showy or anything except exercises in musical festivity, is to be in the nightclub. Excess is a must for these gentlemen, and the earlier that this is realized, then the grander the duration of Fea Jur will seem. Woes of productions past are still lingering (especially in the drum department). The mix is vastly more balanced than Vective’s, with the absence of vocals surely helping the three remaining disciplines bounce off each other harmlessly. Cymbals are damn crisp, unexpectedly countering the disastrously inconsistent bass drum tone. However, the focus of this production is audibility; hearing all the elements fizzle like chemical reactions with utmost clarity is something I would trade for heavier tone and warmth in a second.
Naming a song “Money Eating Mary (Karaoke Remix)” is a great touch to the awareness this band has regarding who they are what they do. The original “Money Eating Mary” involved Saputo, the highlight of a planned three song demo. The new title, and suitable closing track, affirms that statement – this is music-music, driven by notes, numbers, syntax, and if mood sweats off of it every so often… then fine. But Fea Jur is not a bitter android of methods, but a hairy theme park of ideas, pointless as they may be. Sing along to it.
(7.6/10)
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