Fri May 3
This being one of those recklessly hip rags where popular entertainment is only embraced via the arms of irony, it should come as no surprise that I'm scribbling 350 words on the Building Press, an excellent though decidedly non-standard three-piece from Seattle. Just how non-standard? As in "no future," at least in regards to heavy rotation/music video opportunities.
Not that the Building Press--who are Aaron Schroder on guitar, Jeff Woodke on bass, and Jim Acqualvela on drums--are searching to land on MTV. If they were, they'd play music with a more rigid, defined structure--a little more Weezer and a little less Godspeed You Black Emperor! As it is, however, they seem content to befuddle their listeners, which may be why they are so entertaining to watch live. Up there on stage, pounding through their Crates, their songs skip through the gamut, alternating between slow and hard, building and crashing. The result is a pummeling set, littered with shrieks from Schroder and the odd garbled recording--a blunder of harsh sounds somehow wrangled into a solid and cohesive whole. A clusterfuck, if you will.
My first experience with the Building Press came with no foreknowledge, a pleasant, inspiring experience I have all but ruined for you with this here reckless P.R. push. For that I am sorry. I should have warned you earlier. But if loud, ridiculously complicated pseudo-instrumental-but-not-really-(because-there's-some-singing)-punk-pop-noise is exactly what your doctor has prescribed you, or if you find yourself with nothing else to do on Friday night (or if you have been inspired by this here mess of an article--which is highly unlikely, I know, but a man can dream, can't he?), then you should give the Building Press it's day in court. To use an irresponsibly lame cliché, they are a breath of fresh air in the sleepy indierock world we currently find ourselves in. And to use another lame cliché, they rock.