It hasn't always been easy to navigate the wondrous and befuddling trail that Brooklyn's Oneida have cut through the dense psych-rock underbrush. Though the group has steadily refined its thunderous sound, its path has also been peppered with so many digressions and departures that just when you think you've found the main road you realize the band has actually led you straight into the goddamn quicksand.
In fact, you might have to look back to late-80s vintage Butthole Surfers to find a band that so precariously balanced its art-rock ambitions with an unabashed and irreverent love for monolithic, sometimes psychedelic 70s heavy rock riffage. Like the Buttholes in their prime, Oneida maintain a relentless recording schedule, throwing new material into the marketplace quickly-- often without waiting until it's gathered into album-sized portions. On that tip they've now presented us with yet another EP, the strangely (but aptly?) titled Nice: Splittin' Peaches.
At the beginning of the year-- when Oneida delivered their 6th album, Secret Wars-- it seemed that songs like "$50 Tea" or the epic "Changes in the City" brought their affinity for pummeling, repetitive psych-rock riffs to a logical and ecstatic conclusion, leaving it difficult to guess how the group might continue on without backtracking. Thankfully, on these four songs Oneida broaden their vistas and move in enticing new directions.
The big-ticket item is the stupefying 14-minute extravaganza "Hakuna Matata". Now, I'm pleased to admit that I've never seen one frame of Disney's The Lion King, but I have unfortunately been exposed to its soundtrack. So while I can't claim to be an expert, I feel pretty confident this track shares nothing in common with the Elton John/Tim Rice-penned anthem besides its title, a sprightly tempo, and perhaps a certain esprit de corps. Although Oneida have produced ambitious trance-rock marathons in the past-- tracks as "Sheets of Easter" from 2002's Each One Teach One-- they've always placed just as much emphasis on the rock as on the trance. But on "Hakuna Matata" the group travels beyond rock: disembodied voices hover around drummer Kid Millions' unyielding hypnotic pulse and snaky rattles. Despite its length, the track seems to melt by in an eyeblink.
The EP's other three songs are much shorter and less audacious, though certainly not without their moments. The Beefheartian "Summerland" is enlivened by some scalding saxophone courtesy of veteran William Parker collaborator and Gold Sparkle Band member Charles Waters. "Inside My Head" is Oneida at their catchiest, featuring some outlandishly flabby tones from Bobby Matador's organ as well as what are surely some of the year's most believable lyrics ("It's all fucked up now/ Living inside my head"). The extremely brief "Song Y" pleasantly blends falsetto vocals and acoustic guitar with percolating keyboards, blowing out a couple square-shaped bubbles that, although pretty, are likely unfit for long-term survival.
About the only question left unanswered is whether or not the highlights of Nice: Splittin' Peaches are an indication of further treats to come or if they've once again duped us down a blind alley. Either way, I'm looking forward to Oneida's next move.
