I love it! I love it! I love it! If you love it so much why don’t you marry it?
If it was legal and socially acceptable to marry an album, then I would be running off to Vegas with Mr. Gnome’s newest addition, Madness In Miniature. The super exciting duo from rather bland Cleveland, Ohio defy their hometowns stereotype and bring us an album of static rage. They smash their proverbial brains open and present them to us on a golden platter.
Releasing a third full-length album can be a dowdy experience for some bands—faced with preconceived exception and anticipation that can suffocate some. Luckily, it doesn’t seem the pressure has muffled these two. Nicole Barille is magical on vocals and guitar while drummer/pianist Sam Meister weaves sonic codas on which Mrs. Barilles breathless voice swings. Dainty and daunting, its all at once coquettish and crass. It is in this balance that I find so much enjoyment and listenability. They don’t wear you out with their aggression nor do they bore you with their experimentally surreal dribble. Their clearly grunge feel gives a dusty familiarity in the-likes-of Mazzy star on speed.
This album leaves me wanting to pick their brains, get inside the minds that create such inspired sounds. If you’re a compete dweeb and cant tell how badass they are from the music they play then look at the album cover. Creepy masked bunny sullenly sitting in fields of molten wheat, trunked angels staff bows drawn shooting at a double moon: a double moon! Say no more my heart is won, and I know its not proper to judge a book by its cover but in this case you can. The cover indeed reflects the epic awesomeness of this album. It is sexy, insane, rotten, broken, brutal, stunning. It sounds like the color of Arctic oceans, it feels ice cold and peppery.
The one downfall is it’s strictly banned from my walk-to-the-store playlist, I’ll be bouncing all over the place, looking like a mad woman. Every note compels me to move, every song commands your attention. The unadulterated passion stings you, seeping into you and moving you in a big way, with music like this who needs drugs? Coursing through your veins soaring past your nervous system, the percussion pounds out your worries, the creeping vine of the lead guitar and those punch-drunk vocals induce that soporific lull of oblivion. Its punk roots infused seamlessly with a pretty vocal vision. Fall into the rabbit hole, take the red pill, whatever way you get there, take this trip to wonderland—give in to the absurdity, fall in the line with the cadence of the choppy bass lines.
Although every song on this album is a grand slam of musical yumminess, I do have my obligatory gold star favorites. “House of Circles” for its dubby feel and infectious lyrics. Other contenders include, “Sing Electric,” “Bit of Tongue” and “Wolf Girls.” Overall, I give this album my space cadet stamp of approval for being a musically accomplished yet self soothingly angsty carnival ride of pleasure. Be sure to see them when they come to the Silverlake Lounge on November 22.
Words: Jasmine Hickle