The Silver Daggers

The Los Angeles coeds in Silver Daggers bring the apocalyptic no-wave party ruckus, and then some: They're a viciously exuberant counterpoint to like-minded labelmates Coughs. On the quintet's latest adrenalized outing — New High and Ord, on Load — frontwoman Jenna Thornhill unleashes incoherent, bloodied-throat cries from the crazed center of a frenzied, tangled torrent that refuses to let up: bleating horn blasts that burble like glorified kazoos, carpal tunnel drumming, tense, controlled bass'n'guitar'n'synth tug-shoves. This atonal, demented celebration seems as likely to leave the rails as it is to stay on them; their good-time skronk makes for aural adventure that rivals Death Proof's final car chase in terms of sheer exhilaration. Since forming in 2003, the Daggers have released a steady stream of CD-Rs, seven-inches, and cassettes into the underground ocean via itsy-bitsy imprints; their new label's vanguard status should bring these flailing banshees the expanded-if-limited audience they so deserve.

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