There’s still time to nominate local icons for Best of D.C.
I will grant that Kid606 is the outlaw laptop-electronica wunderkind everybody says he is, and I will furthermore concede his genius for coming up with great album titles. But what I want to know iswho really listens to this shit? Kill Sound Before Sound Kills You is not only the coolest album title of the year, it’s also the most apropos, because unless you possess the kind of Kevlar-plated central nervous system that can effortlessly shrug off the sonic assaults of John Zorn or the Boredoms, you may find it necessary to kill this album in self-defense. Not that that means Kill Sound Before Sound Kills You isn’t at least intermittently enjoyable. And not only because Kid606 (aka San Franciscan Miguel Depedro) is capable of producing, when so inclined, seductively beautiful tunes such as the Eno-flavored “If I Had a Happy Place This Would Be It” and the muted but sublime “Andy Warhol Is Dead But We Still Have Hope.” No, I like it because Kid606 is a terrorist, and like all good terrorists he’s long since lost sight of whatever end it was he was employing terror to achieve. This is chaos for chaos’ sake, dance music you can’t dance to, mood music for no mood under the sun, interrupted by long passages of silence, static, and various other nonmusical annoyances. On the hyper side, he gives us the pandemonium house of “Woofer Wrecker” and the crash course for ravers that is “Ecstasy Motherfucker,” both of which gallop along at a speed no Glow Stick could survive. Not as hyper, but every bit as twitch-inducing, is “Total Recovery Is Possible,” which starts slowly with lots of spastic clicks and ticks and pops, then introduces a few gargly voices and some kind of electronic tabla effect that’ll open your third eye only to poke a finger in it. And for all you pure-sound experimental types, there’s “Site Specific Sound Installation,” which is as pure as these things get: 41 seconds of pristine sonic nothingness. Use it to step back and scratch your head in awe. Michael Little