Malpractice

Pineal Ventana's third full release found the then-sextet reaching new heights of strange, disturbing, and at the same time strikingly beautiful music. Given how few bands working in what could be called indie music in the late '90s were doing anything close to this in an American setting (and not many others elsewhere at that), that makes Malpractice all the more of a compelling listen. Dark without being overtly goth, taking dank post-punk guitar energy and mixing it with the kind of industrial chop-ups and strident shifts that define early — very early — Einstürzende Neubaten, Malpractice was, if anything, the sign that Pineal Ventana were logical heirs to Swans. It makes even more sense considering how Clara Clamp has Jarboe's sense of compelling, controlling vocals down — there's no sense of shrinking violets or withdrawn singing here. However, though there are hints of the cinematically epic sound of late Swans, Pineal Ventana also explores the rougher edge of the earlier days of that band mixed with much quicker tempos, various no wave influences (there are hints of Lydia Lunch and, to an extent, Diamanda Galás in Clamp's voice as well), and a wide range of instruments, from turntables to bowed guitars. The rumbling, brusque riffs and rhythms of songs like "The Hooded Mirror," "A Hollow Margin Forgotten," and the surging "Flesh That Moves" show how well Pineal Ventana can put everything together. Guitarists Kim Chee and Jason LaFarge come up with some fierce parts (check out the on-the-edge start to "Taenia Solium"), but it's the crazed, sometimes metallic percussion from Mitchell F. and others, along with the almost-claustrophobic arrangements, that often dominate. Spoken-word recitations against dank, sax-tinged buildups to rampaging freakouts, Lafarge's creeped-out violin performances, and Martin Bisi's excellent production all help to make this a release worth investigating.