One of the best things I ever saw was a Detachment Kit show at the Empty Bottle in Chicago. If I recall, it was a sparsely attended show because it was super-freaking-cold out – that kind of cold where you hold your breath as you dart from the car to the door because you can feel your insides freezing whenever you do suck air. There might have been 20 people tops at the Bottle that night, counting the staff and the bands.
The Detachment Kit seemed to have prepared for a much larger turnout. They always came armed with wacky theatrics whenever they played (costumes, capes, fake blood, etc.), but for this particular show they had wrapped every little bit of their gear with aluminum foil so that it looked like someone had staged a mock moon landing on the Bottle’s stage. There was also a trampoline positioned just in front of the stage. It seemed a shame that so much gimmicky effort had been made for such a small crowd. Despite the lousy turnout, DK put on a ripping good show – fearsome amounts of energy, lots of confrontation, and loud to boot. It was one of those shows that was so mesmerizing that you don’t remember particular songs or sounds so much as you walk away with a head full of stray images and the impression that you witnessed something feral and vital. Just writing about this show some six or so years in the past gives me a little adrenaline jolt.
I saw Detachment Kit one more time after this show when they were touring with My Morning Jacket. They were good, but they’d normaled up a bit – likely because they were playing a supporting slot. The band is still a going concern, now based in Brooklyn. They self-released a record a few years ago that I neglected to pick up. Despite the band providing one of my best rock and roll experiences, I’ve mostly lost touch with them. In fact, I’d kind of let Of This Blood slip my mind prior to running across it the other day when I was scouring the Record Desk for some misplaced disc. It’s a shame too, because this album is a solid little disc of punky, arty rock.
On whole there’s nothing too original going on with Of This Blood. If you’re familiar with Modest Mouse and Fugazi and that style of guitar-driven, spazzy indie rock, then this record will be pretty easy to take. Still, the tightness and conviction of the performances serve as a reminder of how good this kind of ardent, pointy music can be. Theoretically, this album is some kind of concept-ish piece where the songs bleed into each other, but I’ve yet to figure out exactly what the concept is supposed to be. The album art features a primitive board game pitting players against a “Queen Beaktapus.” Perhaps a more dedicated Detachment Kit fan could figure it out, but I suspect it’s mostly nonsense.
For my money, the best tracks here are they super-pretty “Ricochet” with its swooning guitar and mostly murmured “emotional” vocals and the woozy, Radiohead-biting “Ice Queen.” Both are on the softer side of the Detachment Kit spectrum. I think these songs stand out because they are actual songs, the louder, funner stuff feels more like fits of riffing interrupted by the occasional manic vocal spasm. They don’t really “mean” a whole lot, which is probably why this side of the Detachment Kit makes for such a great concert happening.
As “indie” taste has shift from rock to more twee- and folk- and dance-inflected sounds, I’ve started to miss offerings like Of This Blood. Willfully messy, semi-pretentious rock music can grate just as much as the cutesy Juno-soundtrack-lite stuff, but there’s at least some “oomph” with the noisy artschool stuff. I mean, Of This Blood is no all-time, all-time best record ever. Still, it’s got some zazz. The zippy churn of “When You Need…” and the Sabbath-friendly guitar sizzle of “Roots Rock” do get the blood pumping. After all, I still like loud. And I especially like it when it’s wrapped in tinfoil and spitting fake blood.
