I imagine trying to explain Insect Policy to anyone and it kind of melts my brain. There is a primal urgency to their noise making, a gleeful rage against order and the static nature of things, like an anti-capitalist middle finger to society. You can market this. You can cage it. You just let make a mess all over the room and deal with it. But my job here is to try and explain their chaos in a way that makes sense to the uninitiated, so I’ll try that. Where do I begin?
Imagine if the Birthday Party did a bunch of trucker speed after pounding some Hair Raiser at Highland Coffee, like all of it. That doesn’t manifest itself in beats per measure, but in that scatter brained up and down that you get with way too much caffeine, where you start with every answer and end more confused than ever. Imagine a garage band that loved belting out bangers tripping on acid, like Ty Segall, The Sonics, or the Stooges doing their best to keep it on the rails, but crashing the train into a police station instead. It’s interesting no matter how you cut it, more so when you realize that this organized chaos exists only in this space, as a meditation on improv: this was recorded as is and on the spot. Given that context, this is an especially coherent exercise in craftsmanship, and one well worth digging into.
Listen below and get weird with the dissonant specter of dread that haunts your senses.