(Note: Gobby and Curse Purse don’t seem to have a site/Bandcamp/Facebook page for more information)

I went to what was billed as a noise-rock show, put on by Boston Hassle at the Middlesex Lounge last Wednesday.  Having never been to a noise-rock show, I didn’t really know what I was in for, but as someone who loves a good pop hook, I knew I’d have to keep an open mind.

Okay, let me start by saying i get it.  I mean, I don’t get it get it, but from a conceptual level, I think I understand noise-rock.  In order to keep art genuine and push it forward, you have to take no hostages, have no sacred cows, be willing to abandon any conventions. That’s just what Curse Purse did to open up the night.  Those conventions included but were not limited to: harmony, melody, rhythm, and song structure.

To be clear, this is not me hating on a band.  This is objectively what it was, right out of the gate.  Curse Purse consists of three people.  To the right, the guitarist was wailing on non-chords and scream-/sing-/talking into a fuzzed mic.  In the middle, a keyboardist sitting on the floor, playing and holding notes on one of the keyboards around her, arhythmically, mostly high and piercing notes.  On the left was the show-stealer, this band’s very own Slash or Flea–a guy with a five-piece drum set and a guitar, just going nuts on both.  The kick and snare would be hit a few times, then he would go play on the guitar, but not…play it.  Bang it around on the drums, pull the strings, at one point sliding a cymbal under the strings and hitting it with a drumstick.  All of this while he was moaning into a microphone he had inside of his mouth.

5 stars.

Gobby is one guy playing an electronic drum kit.  There are samples of moans and laughs going.  The drumming is rhythmic, which I’m relieved about, as closed-minded as that makes me.  The samples express moods and create an eerie theme.  As it builds though (and it does build–it’s basically the same piece for the entire set), the samples become smarter and better used.  The moods are less hamfisted and more evocative.  Eventually, I realize I’m listening to something very akin to DJ Shadow or Blue Daisy.   Maybe it’s the comfort of knowing that this sound can exist outside this room without combusting in on its own sense of self-importance, but I enjoy it all the more for identifying that.

Behind Gobby, short films were being projected onto the wall.  Films might be misleading–these are extended shots of a whiskey glass, zoomed in so much it blurs, then zoom back out.  Shots of a dark room.  Shots of vague objects while different color and lighting filters run over them.  Looped.

It’s easy and obvious for someone to tear this down as lazy and faux-profound, which would no doubt spark a defense by the artist/commissioner.  But would this defense include why, between each loop, the screen would display the projector’s menu screen?  Was that part of the art, or just laziness in not creating a 45-minute loop the video?

Shade, from Athens, GA, took the stage afterward, and kind of switching it up, just played some messy shoegazey punk.  The songs had structure, it wasn’t entirely different from a basement show around here, definitely not fitting with the bill, but not unwelcome. They were nice and happy and appreciative of the space and the audience, ripping through their songs with well-practiced deftness.  Apparently there was demand, as they had a few fans in the audience, who requested some songs.  As the set went on, the great shoegaziness fell off it became more rocky and jammy, but it was still a whole bunch of fun and brought some melody, harmony, rhythm, and song structure to the room.