Pine Cone Temples

The members of Thuja have become almost as well known — if not more so — for their individual projects as well as the Jewelled Antler Collective. But Pine Cone Temples, a two-disc assemblage of untitled recordings covering five years of work, demonstrates that their remarkable ability to bring the best out of each other holds true every time they record. Starting, amusingly, with a very audible vinyl scratch leading into a roiling clutter of percussion, the compilation-as-such shows how a newer generation of performers has audibly transformed expectations of "psychedelia" and "drone" as concepts. The use of found sounds, open-ended feedback, and more certainly isn't new, but Thuja — like many bands of the past couple of decades — embrace these concepts as some of many stylistic tools. It's not simply being a rock band, but a band of musicians going to town with what is available. Monstrously huge bass tones can offset spindly thin guitar notes, drowned piano melodies echo through electronic hums, sheets of white noise are interwoven with textures of sludgy rhythmic sounds. The fourth track on the first disc, though perhaps more conventionally anchored with a quiet, meditative guitar melody at its heart, sets off the contrast with the other sonic elements all the more — scraping sounds of what could be dirt and stone, a sense of an enclosed space beneath the earth. The first track on the second disc takes things even further, the combination of clattering, unidentifiable noise high in the mix as moody dark guitar tones and open-ended riffs suggest the abstract aggressiveness of mid-period Main, an impression that continues across other selections on the disc. If, overall, Pine Cone Temples appeals to an audience that prefers extremity to immediate structure, it is still a fine example of just that.