"I love my pet," say the Austin band Beth Israel in the middle of a Dental Denial track. The line, and all of the track's spoken word vocals, are delivered in a deadpan over sedate, washy, prolonged guitar chords. Soon, the monologue becomes deranged in its chilliness. "And then I take my pet, and I go AHHHHHH." At the moment of the scream, the vocals are distorted. The result: "I killed it!" The song is called "Tommy Boy", and all of its lyrics can be found on the IMDB "quotes" page for the 1995 film of the same name. The lines are given a deep-voiced and straight-faced reading, sort of like the Velvet Underground's "The Gift". Removed from the context of Chris Farley, the words are still funny, but in a dry, dark way that flirts with unsettling.
Offering context doesn't appear to be a priority for Beth Israel. Here's the readily available information on this band: There are two of them, Zack Claxon and Ramsey Eddins, and they're from Austin. There used to be a third member named Abler T. Heis. Both Dental Denial and their previous cassette were released via Dull Tools—the label headed by Parquet Courts' Andrew Savage. That's pretty much it; aside from sharing their music, they've kept a notably low profile on the internet.
Their album is similarly hard to pin down. They sing about destruction over a pulsating drone and hushed, beatific synths. Then, a prolonged, serious voice sings the words "Maya Angelou", the song's overall mood making her name sound like some forgotten mythical secret. On "Living End", they're absolutely shredding underneath muddy fidelity. Purling Hiss seem like an appropriate analogue, though their guitar sound could also feasibly befit a 16-bit video game. Throughout, they implement a variety of field recordings. Water flows through a stream for the introduction of "Heat 2". Birds chirp with a persistent, digitized echo that makes them sound like UFOs. Their percussion can be digital and tinny, but they compensate with a dense guitar sound. They manage to traverse this array of material with effective sequencing.
Their lyrics, as the source material behind "Tommy Boy" implies, are likely the most divisive element of Dental Denial. Again, there's no context, but they manage to jump from phrases that are absurd and silly to stuff that's more abstract yet weighty. "Jamba Juice, Baja Fresh," they say at the outset of "Family". During the verse, the vocals are dour: "I don't need medicine, it won't make up the rent." In a song where they quickly namedrop chain restaurants and say "I don't need shit," there's a line about health care. And sure, the tinny digital percussion can be an obstacle sometimes, but their hook writing is stellar. The melody on "Dead Bodies"—led by chugging guitars, a synthesizer, and some perfectly executed vocal harmonies—is an undeniable highlight. Then there's the persistent bass line, erratic snare bursts, and sunny post-punk melody of "Statue in the Car". Though so much of the album is muffled, everything here is, quietly, very strong.
What's at once frustrating and captivating about Dental Denial is how it undersells so many of its best moments. They'll write a phrase that's fascinating or funny only to have it buried in the mix beneath other instruments. They'll establish an undeniable earworm, but they don't seem to linger for too long. That's what makes Dental Denial an album that demands multiple readings and further probing. It's like a good poetry book or soup recipe. You'll enjoy it initially, remember it fondly, have a difficult time nailing down favorite elements, and then return multiple times in order to truly understand it. Though trying to "understand" Dental Denial may be a fool's errand, it certainly rewards repeat visits. Like Tommy Boy.
