While there are plenty of artists whose appeal and approach are instantly recognizable and quickly absorbed, there are still bands, albums, and catalogs that just take more time. Their value only reveals itself with patience: the hooks are obtuse, the choruses demure, and the memorable details deep in the strata of the mix, only discerned with headphones on the fifth or sixth or twentieth listen. Not every note brings instant gratification, and not every melody is a quick fix. Part Chimp is not one of these hard-to-grasp artists. What's the inverse of a velvet hammer-- a massage from a horny gorilla? A tickle with a scythe blade? They've got it down: this UK band strikes a rare balance between oppressive guitar sludge, questionable recording fidelity, and brazenly stupid hooks. They even marshaled some the squalls of noise from post-rock's heavier acts-- being Mogwai protégés helps-- on their sophomore album, 2005's I Am Come. Cup has neither the steel-toe kick in the sweet tooth of their debut, Chart Pimp, or the cohesiveness of Come, but to expect either from an odds-and-sods comp would be silly.
That Part Chimp have yet to conquer America is criminal and unfair; Cup may not be the greatest starting point, but then, any first exposure to Part Chimp is the best exposure. Start here or start anywhere, just open your goddamn ears already. For the already-converted American fans who didn't pick up the excellent "New Cross" single as the band last toured through the States, Cup combines that track with alternate takes and obscure sides that even file-sharers would have trouble finding, making it a welcome compendium. The reckless tempo belies the patient build in tension on the single version of "Bring Back the Sound", which trots out far ahead of the jet-engine distortion of "Crash the High Octave", or the monotonous crunch of "Seedsy" or its heavier but hard-to-distinguish cousin, "Miser Chimp", tunes which are (relatively) less subtle while still making the band's irresponsible-yet-accessible appeal plain. The simple climb of "30,000,000,000 People," an earlier version of an I Am Come highlight, sounds monolithic and unrelenting here, but the following "New Cross" and it's accompanying B-sides are this disc's linchpin.
"New Cross" is slicker, scarier, and more metal than anything in their catalog, but with punk-worthy pummeling of the toms and bickering twin guitar lines adding to its rubbery low-end melody. While the bluesier strut of "Black Water" is more obvious, it's no less gratifying. The real curveball is "And Hell is Behind Me", ten minutes of knuckle-dragging rhythm with no trace of melody-- just echoing dive-bomb guitar scrapes, answering machine messages, and mercurial, piercing feedback. Taken from a four-way split single, the suspenseful drum performance and dry guitar tone of "Once More Forever" make for a gripping left-turn in the band's material. "Wild Honey Pie" is less essential; whether it's a tribute to the Pixies' inspired deconstruction of the song or just an opportunity to confuse, it's simply a fun and irreverent throwaway.
It's hard to predict from these old non-album sides where the band's next album will take them, but given the deadly concise "New Cross" sharing space with the lumbering and discordant "And Hell is Behind Me", their upcoming material could go anywhere. This compilation buys you some time to scramble for their two LPs and say you were there first before Part Chimp brought a dazed and deafened world to its knees.
