Dark Meat: A Psych Trajectory from Jazz to Skronk

Being modest hasn’t ever been a problem that writers have dealt with. Armed with self confidence as evidence by thinking that what gets scribbled down is worthy enough to take other’s time up for perusal is ostentatious enough. But proclaiming something new and incredible is a rock writer’s perpetual joy. It’s a double edged sword, though. Discovering something that one finds unique and amazing one moment doesn’t necessarily mean that later on that same thing won’t be dull in comparison to something else. That’s not always the case, but it is some of the time.

Beyond that, it’s ever gratifying to ‘break’ a band or genre to the market place. It doesn’t happen too frequently, but when a writer is of the opinion that he’s (or she’s) in the presence of something new and unknown, that hyperbolic writing kicks in. And it’s not always pretty. Below are two examples that scribes saw fit to litter the googlewebs with. Yes, effusive praise is indeed something easy to truck in.

“Perhaps psych-rock has been this exciting before, but never has it been so cool and cacophonous…”

“Dark Meat is a band astonishing in size and creativity…”

The band, Dark Meat, that each quote is directed towards certainly deserves some accolades. It is a unique experience to see the group live. And even in listening to those two full lengths – both 2007’s Universal Indian and the more recent Truce Opium – fans can glean some sort of excitement. Punk’s urgency is accounted for as well as the experimentation of ‘80s and ‘90s under the radar rock bands. And yes, Dark Meat dedicated its first album to Cleveland’s own Albert Ayler, a sax player of unparalleled excellence (see there’s some obtuse language right now), but that doesn’t mean the group really has any free jazz inkling. That’s kinda like saying Miles Davis was a really good funk player because he enjoyed the music of Sly Stone and George Clinton. Whatever.

Regardless of that nonsense, Dark Meat’s been a busy buncha new age hippies with constant touring and releasing this new album. The eight tracks here – most of them clocking in at over five minutes a piece – while maintaining some outsider, weirdo rock appeal feel detached from its first full length. It’s not that Truce Opium isn’t based in revved up rock and space noises as its predecessor was, there just seem to be a heap more production flourishes represented here.

There could be an argument to validate the weird swirly nonsense that makes up most of “Fluid,” but there’s no point. It’s there because the band wants it to be. There’s no posturing or playing to a crowd. All involved are on their own trip into musicality and what it can do.

With an ever expanding demand for noisy acts, Dark Meat will certainly continue to be sought after product. But where the group’s next long player takes us will determine the overall trajectory of the band. ‘Cause really, playing the two Dark Meat full lengths back to back is just short of a confusion.