Tired of pop stars and the drama of their daily existences? Sick of snotty Brits and has-been pop tarts adjudicating a glorified karaoke contest? Had enough of self-absorbed metal acts and the (overcompensating) Wagnerian size of their angst?
Then come out to see Dysrhythmia, whose cascading tones of surprisingly supple instrumentals lead you on a tour of musical locations far and wide, from bouncing jazz to churning alt-rock to epic near-mathematical art rock. Enjoy the gravity-defying groove of rhythms that swoop and soar like lurching spaceships. Defile your senses in sonic arrangements that fling you to and fro in a spinning teacup ride. Revel in the jaw-dropping guitar pyrotechnics that alternate between enveloping prog intensity worthy of a crimson king, hip-shattering swerve on extended flights of near-metal fancy, and shards of awkward tonality or full-blown dissonance like the bedroom noodlings of so many sonic youth.
Best of all, no one sings a word, allowing the experience to wash over you in both its gentle and more muscular moments. As rich as the rush of a weather report, more sprightly and groovy than a tortoise, and with the tightly planned intricacy of Dillinger's famous escape plan, Dysrhythmia is a palate-cleansing palliative for the histrionics of the modern music scene.
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