If you lay on your arm too long it falls asleep. You can hit it and you feel pins and needles. This is caused by a lack of blood flow and it can result in the eventual loss of a limb. This takes days and you shouldn’t worry about it. But, what if that happened to you brain? If you wake up in the middle of the night with two numb arms are shoot up and shake them awake. But what if it happened to your brain? Your thoughts plunging without proper fuel. You might be inclined to receive electric shock therapy.
Impuritan is a three piece comprised of Alex Eliopoulos on guitar, bass, keys, and vocals; David Molina on guitars, bass, keys, electronics, and vocals; and Pepe Abed on drums and percussions. They’re from San Fransisco. They have three full length albums. The first is Highjacked Artifacts, Treasured Form. The second is Make It Look Like Nothing Happened. And the third is Everything Is Magick.
This isn’t music for tortured souls. This isn’t music for the damned. The is music for those without a soul. For those who cannot be damned.
Altered Statues begins like an infestation with “Spruce”. A lovely guitar subtlety fills up the soundscape until pure hell breaks loose. “Strange Swim” is maddeningly sparse. It creates an open ended nightmare with a million tiny faked crescendos that go nowhere. Clocking in at under a minute is “Poison Candy”. It’s almost like the deafening screams you’d have to expel after “Strange Swim” leaves you gasping for air. Completing Altered States is “Death Triggers Anonymous”. It’s a trudging adventure that continues on with the tones of bleakness. It’s 15 minutes long. But, it opens a rift for you to peer into their world. You can search through their catacomb and find yourself wrapped up like a baby crying for nothing.
Nothing is the answer because nothing has any meaning.
Impuritan is a hard band to place in my head. I love the madness. I love the lack of tangible notes. I love the ache it’s left in my heart. But I know living in the world they’ve welded together with lead to a numbing nightmare I’d never recover from.
If we’re just all just infinite dust we can fuel the fire of Hell forever.
Richard Murray
POW! Magazine
