A particular keyboard sound
used to menace a lot of Oneida songs, pulsing and overheating like a hail of
casino marquees. It becomes more of a beacon in the gloom of Preteen
Weaponry's first track, as the trio
spreads its might around, letting some of it linger and steam in the
background, some of it drift to the front, and much of it wander the spaces
between. The foreground often gets crowded on this incessantly experimental
group's records, so this
continuous 39-minute piece, mostly instrumental and divided up into three
tracks, comes as something of a relief.
Oneida's feedback and static
roar in the distance through much of "Preteen Weaponry Part 1," then congeal
into gobs that burp and rumble forth throughout "Part 2." Kid Millions'
drumming moves the record along as much as any other element, tumbling
ominously through the beginning, slowing down at the center, and kicking the
finale to a bright conclusion full of glitches and clicks. As the atonal
flurries build up, Oneida keeps prodding them all into suspense and shading, a
fine compliment to the somber guitar and key melodies that plod through "Part
1." More than ever, it's clear that Oneida's vision goes beyond mere walls or
pools of sound. On Preteen Weaponry,
it patiently carves its own landscape and brews up the weather to go with it.