Fluke attack

>> Beached Whale comes up for air

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

In the tradition of the Archies and Jem's Holograms (graphically if not musically), and more recently Gorillaz, comes Beached Whale, a cartoon collective plying a polystylistic phonic frenzy. These dreadlocked techno-punx rhyme "besmirched" and "de-perched" without blinking, mixing poetry and politics, Powerbooks and power chords in a whimsical rap-rock whap-a-dang of pan-galactic dimesions. The Whale may or may not be alter-agos of live-action Montrealers--a quandary no more clarified after the Mirror's chat with central members Halo and Strobe (yin to each other's yang).



Mirror: Beached Whale calls its style "neo-gothic cyberfunk," which also incorporates techno, hip hop, metal and drum & bass. Isn't there a risk of all this melting down into an incomprehensible mess?

Halo: Yes, but risk is fun.

Strobe: Heeeell, no. All those genres gotta common thread. Once itz quadracepted, itz all One.

M: Besides music, a live performance, an accompanying illustrated booklet and terrible headaches for anyone who believes in the importance of correct, traditional spelling in the English language, what else can we expect the collective mind of Beach Whale to generate?

H: Feedback.

S: Y'noh how wasabi reaches under Yo cerebellum and vice-grips the back o' Yo brain like freezin' hot spider legs...

M: Who, may I ask, are the "Phaekurz"?

H: [nervous, fidgety silence]

S: Yo, I seddit b4 and Ile sae-yit agen: therz sum wack kidz outta tha Mount Royal claimin dey tha Whale. Ig-NORE 'em.

M: You're a sprightly, discombobulated young bunch. It's hard to believe there isn't some clever, cynical old man (like Mr. Kincaid on The Partridge Family) pulling all the strings...

H: Yeah, that'll be my muse, callz himself Miscellaneous. Weer all clammy little meat-puppets.

S: Naw, Halo's spittin bonifide nonsense, He an' Me be the En-Jin uv dyss shyt.

With Shadowboxerz and Icenine at la Sala Rossa on Saturday, Sept. 22, 9pm, $10