Erase Errata
Fri March 25
Nocturnal
1800 E Burnside

AS EMO AS IT SOUNDS, we all drown our sorrows in music. Weepy R&B for weepy breakups, screaming hardcore for when we're mad at the world--whatever's your poison. And I've been feeling low for awhile now. After Sept. 11, and the subsequent shitstorm of Bush-brought ball-busting, stuff has sucked. So, the therapy music comes out. Mine, since, like, midnight of Sept. 12, has been Erase Errata's Other Animals. 2003's At Crystal Palace also worked well, as did the band's remix joint, the horribly titled Dancing Machine.

Theirs is a hellbroth of medicinal noise for raw nerves, lost innocence, and general nihilism: the guitar cranks huge, chunky riffs into tiny spaces, high-speed funk U-turns into danceable punk rock. Best songs, though, are the ones where singer Jenny Hoyston shouts or yips or howls, then plays a big, gut-blasting poot-wah! on her trumpet.

At Crystal Palace spits neon-bright fireballs for every bomb dropped on every Iraqi child. It's the sound of pain relieved through loud, twisted Sonic Youthful free-jazzed jams which sound like BONK BANK BRRROW BNNNOW BRROW BONK BONK but feel like Percoset and breathy, cotton candy-soft harps to your ragged, murdered psyche.

Now a three-piece (following the departure of guitarist Sara Jaffe), it's been a while since Erase Errata's last record, but they're working on a new one for Troubleman Unlimited. And since it looks like we'll be in this stinking war for a while, new noise could totally save our souls.