What would an alien satellite tell us if it could overcome the gulf of time, space and language? “Thirteen thousand years orbit Earth get mistaken for trash,” suggests Wendy Eisenberg, their cool, clear voice transforming compressed lyrics into a post-human plea for connection. It’s a sharp opening to a fresh, ferocious third album from Editrix – an experimental trio founded in Massachusetts’ DIY scene – which explores forms of frustrated, imbalanced communication via a musical language all their own.
From rock’s foundations and various genres – blues, jazz, punk, prog, hardcore, indie, metal – Editrix carve a style that is articulate and crushingly exhilarating. With galloping interplay between Steve Cameron’s bass and Josh Daniel’s drums (which alternate between cavernous and deadened, sometimes as if he’s simply drumming his fingers on a plastic tabletop), the band fall in and out of togetherness; musical conversations begin, get interrupted and pick up somewhere new.
What’s Wrong uses uneasy, skipping polyrhythms to warn of the dangers in projecting your desires upon someone else (perhaps a lover, or an idol) while Eisenberg’s vocals and electric guitar compete for the same melody. “Help me figure out what inspires me to say no,” asks Eisenberg (also a member of Bill Orcutt’s Quartet) on the blurrily heavy No, and the second half of the track does just that – toying with repetition before running headlong into a concrete wall of noise.
Editrix make complex music feel organic, like the natural thing to do, and imply that sound succeeds where words often fail us. So let me say it plainly: Editrix rock.
