Universal Indians was an album that bathed in obscurity. After all, opening track “Freedom Ritual” was a blissful track in which Dark Meat flirted with psychedelic trips and prog afterthoughts. It opened with a near two minute a capella before the epic guitars suddenly burst forth to rip off your face. It also had its painful moments, when over-the-top experimentation left little but a gut-wrenching noise. Truce Opium picks up right where Universal Indians left off, but in a way much stronger.

Truce Opium for example opens strong, continues strong, and even during more experimental free jazz tracks like “Flaps” has the ability to w.o.w. I mean, just listen to that opening sax solo and tell me that doesn’t rock. Do that and I’ll think you’re f*ing lame and incompetent when it comes to knowing greatness when you hear it. Seriously. “Flaps” goes from there into a blend of jazz and psychedelic rock; in fact, that’s one area that Truce Opium finds a constant (something lacking selectively on UI): true experimental psychedelic rock.

Bizarre as this band gets at times, with all its members, frequently nearing, if not topping, two dozen; in Truce Opium they all come together in a way that is entirely connected, whether they’re diving into a bout of free jazz (“When The Shelter Came”) or pumping out an epic 10-minute psychedelic jam (“Song Of The New Year”). Quite literally, an adequate descriptor for this band would be: a marching band from the early 70s tripping on acid and taken over by a wild man possessed by a peaceful but slightly angry demon.

Dark Meat is a band astonishing in size and creativity, and despite absolutely amazing tracks like “Freedom Ritual” and “Dead Man” off last year’s Universal Indians, Truce Opium is easily their best work yet. It’s hard to argue otherwise as the male/female harmony vocals in that other 10 minute epic “No One Was There” blasts into another colorful LSD trip, or as opener “The Faint Smell Of Moss” channels Dan Snaith (Caribou) times thirty. It is an album of epics and anthems, of immense mass and girth, of true rock ‘n’ roll the way it was truly meant to be.

Above photo snagged from the Dark Meat Flickr Group.

Dark Meat: The Faint Smell Of Moss [mp3]

Emergency Umbrella [CD, 2009]

1. The Faint Smell Of Moss
2. Future Galaxies
3. Flaps
4. No One Was There
5. When The Shelter Came
6. Last Of The Frontiersmen
7. Yonderin’
8. Song Of The New Year

Written by Fense

Do you ever see an album in the record store that sparks your curiosity each time you pass it by? It nags you and gets underneath your skin—you want to check it out, but you’re wary about dropping $20 on an LP that might or might not be good. It’s simply not worth the risk. Universal Indians by Dark Meat was just such an album. Then I heard “Freedom Ritual”, the album’s first track, and I was hooked.

Hearing “Freedom Ritual” tipped me over the edge. There was no way I could NOT pick up Universal Indians on my next record store binge.

Dark Meat has an interesting sound. When you hear someone talk about experimental music, you usually think of something modern; Dark Meat, on the other hand, mashes experimentation with 60s and 70s psychedelic folk-rock. While several songs, like “Freedom Ritual”, “Angel Of Meth”, and “Dead Man” all fit this mold, others like “Birdsong + Footsteps, Flute, Horn” (guess what this one includes?) and “Disintegrating Flowers” are damn near as avant garde as it gets.

“Dead Man” is one of the few songs Dark Meat has put to video. Where Universal Indians is a colorful album, filled with blaring horns, wild saxophones, multiple vocalists, and rockin’ guitars, the video for “Dead Man” is, for the most part, filmed in black and white.

This flavor gives it an interesting and supernatural feel that fits well with the song—the scene where vocals enter includes two ghastly figures singing while standing in a waterfall. Dirt on faces looks like scars or blood or old wounds. Toward the end, color is introduced as the wild characters are baptized in a fiery yellow and orange glow.

“Dead Man” may not be the best introduction to Dark Meat, as it’s quite a bit more accessible than some songs (see the aforementioned ones listed as avant garde), but then again it is. It puts on display the classic folk and rock and psychedelic sounds Dark Meat favor, and it adds plenty of horns and saxophones to the mix.

Either way, Dark Meat is one of those strange bands you simply must check out. Their performances are a cluster fuck of people—they’ll fill up a small venue without letting a single person inside. They’ll rival I’m From Barcelona and The Polyphonic Spree in size, though they’ll give every member an instrument to play rather than drop a single mic a few feet from the mass choir. The sound, as you can image, is epic.

Dark Meat: Dead Man [mp3]

Dark Meat: Freedom Ritual [mp3]