The Flight of the Pterodactyl - Forced Group Art

Ah, collaboration... you are both the light of my artistic world and bane of my existence...

I often find myself horribly irritated when forced to participate in group projects for classes. No matter how simple the project, it's always complicated by the single idea that you must work with other people... simultaneously. Considering all that comes with that idea - scheduling, difference in thoughts, communication - it's not a fun prospect.

So when three classmates and I were forced to get together and make something, I had very low expectations of what would come out of this project. And thus, Pterodactyl was born.... a quite palatable mash-up of a musician, photographer, actress-turned-screenwriter, and a filmmaker.

Contrary to my previous experience in group projects, the process was simple and uncomplicated. We could openly communicate our ideas, and draw inspiration from each other's chosen mediums and aesthetics. Our conceptual approaches aligned far more easily than ever expected, and we eventually landed on on a overall lightness and absurdity to the piece. We still hadn't quite planned out the final product in its entirety, we had a conceptual starting point. From there our ideas began to come together, each step of the process coming organically and naturally. Together, we very possibly could have made a volcano erupt, or sent a rocket into orbit with our work. But alas, we decided to keep it simple and concise, and stick to what we each knew best.

Once our creative energies sparked into fireworks, we had a fairly simple concept on our hands, that was both malleable and concrete. A combination of still photographs that were arranged and edited as a story, set to music. After infusing this concept with our own individual quirks and ideas, it came to life. The work of Pterodactyl became... The Bearhouse Effect... the story of a bored teddy bear expressed through a stop-motion style assembly of photographs and musical accompaniment. While disparate, our mediums became interdependent; without any one element of the process, our artwork would not be nearly as successful. The story, the photographs, the assembly, and the music all seemed to coalesce. Our flair for absurdity came out in the teddy bear's human expressions and his interest in the work of Kurt Vonnegut, yet the story also had accessibility. The product maintained a modern aesthetic while staying true to simple approaches. We may not have caused any natural disasters, but "The Bearhouse Effect" definitely exceed our own expectations.


And so, my friends, the Pterodactyl learned to fly, and did not just disprove a lifetime of negativity towards group assignments, but actually created a rather impressive piece of work...

"The Bearhouse Effect"
Written by Samantha Zyck
Photographed by Michael Lee
Edited by Meredith Upchurch
Music by Yusuke Watanbe

Are We Experimental?

Believe me - I know that I'm in the minority when I call myself a "noisehead". At the mention of "noise", most people have no idea what to think, and those that do usually just picture a few 45-year-old white guys bending over knobs and antenna trying to find new interferences... and then they roll their eyes...

But alas, I hear static, and my eyes light up. Add drones and reverb into the mix and you've made me happy for the rest of the night. I realize that the experimental, sometimes painful, realm of noise isn't exactly everyone's cup of tea, but I find the bending and massacring of sound waves both fascinating and mesmerizing. In fact, I could say that I love the almost violent onslaught of noise just about as much as I love psychedelic music, from the Byrds to the 13th Floor Elevators, but elaborating on this adoration is both redundant and unnecessary because who doesn't love all things psychedelic?

Now, pair the aforementioned complete disregard for musical form with referential psychedelia and unbelievable technical prowess, and you've got the unprecedented sounds of Acid Mothers Temple. The band hails from Japan, and is known worldwide for their unflinchingly loud, incredibly heavy, and dreamily psychedelic music. Though the lineup tends to change regularly, the core members of the band tour together relatively frequently, often switching instruments at a moment's notice. I've been taken by their music for some time now, and thus jumped at the opportunity to see them at the Echoplex on April 3rd... and my ears remained upset with me for the insane volume I exposed them until sometime around April 10th (which, to be fair, is a bit better than the two-week-long noise hangover I had from My Bloody Valentine in October... see the link for "noise").

The band itself functions primarily as a jam band, but I suggest you stop before reaching for your favorite joint roller and hemp sweater - this ain't that type of jam band. AMT is highly improvisational, as they take their cues from one another on stage and create cohesive, fluid compositions - you'll never see the same show twice. In this regard (combined with their precise technical skills), they parallel another Japanese band, Ghost, as they function more as an artistic display of sound rather than simply a band. There are no singles, no coherent lyrics, and no planned song structure. Yet, their music sounds immaculately crafted.

Not only did they have volume, style, and skills working in their favor (watching their lead guitarist is a lot like watching a Samurai Jimmy Hendrix), but they possess a refreshing sense of humor. Typically, artists of this genre tend to take themselves unnecessarily seriously, which is a turn off for many concert-goers. However, AMT's Higashi Hiroshi could make even the darkest soul start to giggle. His improvised lyrics are often nonsensical, and he approaches them with such a uniquely, well, silly, point of view. He bounces about, pokes fun at his fellow bandmates, and even gargles water into a microphone (which he, of course, choked on). Their album titles also possess this light-heartedness, as they are among some of the best pastiches I have ever heard in my life (an award that I had previously given to The Brian Jonestown Massacre for such albums as, Their Satanic Majesties Second Request and Bringing It All Back Home Again). Unfortunately for BJM's Anton Newcombe, Acid Mother's Temple put their referential titles to shame with such gems as 41st Century Splendid Man and Are We Experimental? (complete with a cover that directly copies Jimi's own). They brought this quirky, referential humor into their show, as well as their music itself, which is something you rarely, if ever, see with an experimental, improvised, noise band.

Whether you like painfully loud music, the unusually experimental, classic psychedelic music, or just straight up rock and roll (trust me, you'd be hard pressed to find someone more truly "rock" than their guitarist), Acid Mothers Temple is one of those bands that you'd just be wrong not to appreciate. This is not to say that they're necessarily everyone's cup of tea, but damnit, I know they're mine...

And now, for your visceral enjoyment, Acid Mothers Temple (best consumed in FULL VOLUME)...