Tera Melos


Amoeba San Francisco - April 14th @ 2:00pm



"Akin to the type of freak-pop perversion dished out by daring pioneers like Devo and The Flaming Lips." -- Wired

Sacramento natives Tera Melos celebrate the release of X'ed Out (out April 16th on Sargent House), the culmination of an arc begun on their first full-length, Patagonian Rats -- a supercollider of '60's pop hooks, Minutemen garage-prog, post-punk evisceration, wiry psychedelia, and nearly everything else in-between. On their new release, the trio burns and simmers simultaneously while situated somewhere without benefit of location services. It's a nowhere land.

Truly great art is that which can't be easily understood and dissected, but immediately resonates nonetheless. Tera Melos' new full length, X'ed Out, is just that kind of adventure. The songs transcend in a way that makes you want to sit friends down to hear it, not only to share the experience, but perhaps in hopes that together you can create the world in which songs like this can be defined. It hits mental buttons and flicks internal switches that you never knew existed, while cleverly obscuring the technical precision for which the band has been known. It's remarkably multifaceted, incredibly catchy and perplexing to unravel exactly how it all works.

From the very first fluttering notes of album opener "Weird Circles" it's clear that we're encountering an entirely new Tera Melos. Guitarist/vocalist Nick Reinhart's steady, rhythmic palm-muted strumming and Latona's nimble counter-melody glide the song through the ether like Tangerine Dream with stringed instruments. Reinhart's soft falsetto vocals hover at the forefront until drummer John Clardy's propulsive beat kicks in short, sharp jolts with wailing noise leading up to a triumphant crescendo. Elsewhere, "Bite" soars with a chiming harmonized guitar drone smeared over repetitive, mechanical sounding rhythms. Haunting Beach Boys style "do do do" vocals lead in to the bubbly, rapid-fire notes of "Sunburn" before erupting into the unabashed pop hooks of the chorus. Mellower moments, like the swooning guitar drone and vocal harmonies of "No Phase" and threadbare-yet-bludgeoning "Melody Nine" show just how richly developed the band's musical palette has become. "Tropic Lame" sounds almost reminiscent of Goo-era Sonic Youth's maligned guitar melodies -- skronking, ringing, bending -- while the whole band lean into their instruments to create a massive haze of joyful noise.

Also catch them at Bottom of the Hill on May 25th.

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