In the late 1980s and early 90s, a loose strain of underground rock-- a kind of muscular, sloppy post-punk-- dotted the rosters of labels like Touch and Go, Amphetamine Reptile, and Sub Pop. The bands in question played metallic power-sludge that teetered on the edge of insanity, yet never collapsed fully into noise. Think Tad, Halo of Flies, the Cows, Unsane, and my personal favorite, the almighty Jesus Lizard.
By the mid-90s, the sound splintered in different directions, such as the math marathons of Don Caballero, the deconstructions of U.S. Maple, or the minimalist metal of Noxagt. Excellent bands all, but less immediately accessible than their forefathers. And so the "genre"-- noise rock? scuzz punk? garbage metal?-- faded a bit, no longer a huge attention-getter. A resurrection may be afoot via bands like Pissed Jeans and Clockcleaner, but for now the jury's still out.
All of which means that if Providence's Landed had come along in the early rather than later part of the 90s, we might see them at the next Touch and Go anniversary. Instead the band has labored mostly in obscurity, forging a grimy, drooling bluster that mixes AmRep sweat with the art-howl of Japanese bands like Boredoms and the Gerogerigegege. How Little Will It Take collects an out-of-print Load LP with live tracks and compilation appearances, making a convincing case that if the Jesus Lizard ever had a proper heir, Landed were it.
The best measure of a band playing this kind of simple slobber is how hypnotic their most primitive songs are. Landed consistently hit home runs on this count. Take "Longest Winter", which is essentially just one big chord repeated slowly and endlessly. As Rick Pelletier adds ascending snare and Dan St. Jacques screams blurrily, the track gets more and more transfixing without ever really changing. It might be odd to get philosophical about music this primal, but Landed's lumbering pound is not far from a Zen mantra-- devout repetition that over time reveals multiple shades of the same single truth. But Landed can get complicated too. On "War / Us vs. Them (and You)", they switch beats on a dime, adding a Black Sabbath-like chug. Later, on the epic "Hit the Land" they melt a proggy beat into churning industrial noise. Still, even at their trickiest, Landed sound more monster than human, never letting brains get in the way of flailing brawn.
How Little Will It Take isn't Landed's last word-- according to Load, they've recently "mutated into a breakcore booty crew with a mush mouthed grape ape singing." Evidence comes here via a 2006 recording called "Pass the Buck". Crunchy and overloaded, it pulls Landed's mono lurch into the territory of Mouthus or Sightings. If this is their new direction, it may not win them new fans, but it'll surely hold onto any heads smart enough to already be along for the ride.
