Mahjongg - "Kontpab"

Mahjongg - "Problems" (K 2008)

Mahjongg – Kontpab / K

As the opening track “Pontiac” rumbles out of the back alleyway of Southside Chicago and into my speakers, with its duct-taped metallic and plastic entrails loosely hanging and clattering together in a claustrophobic-yet-groovy rhythm, I immediately remember why, despite my weak stomach for indie-dance whatever, I have always had a warm place in my ear’s heart for Mahjongg. They have the ability to exist outside the chic underground music spectrum, while still appealing to the current crowd. The Chicago-based band, strapped shoulder high in analog synthesizers, crisscrossed wiring, samplers sampling samplers, digital drum pads, hand percussion, modified guitars and ear-encapsulating headphones, can transform an art space from humdrum carousing and whispered snobbery into a massive bulge of simultaneously grooving hipsters. Their music and appearance appeals as much to the collective-obsessed freak-folkers as it does the trashy, neon-make-up plastered dance-punks, not to mention the current wave of fans obsessing over the weirdly exotic-sounding Brooklyn bands (a movement paralleling the mid-80s realization that there are other styles of music outside the States), and you know, us, the writers with keyboard-glued fingers that refuse to listen to anything unless it is derived from Can.

Mahjongg first appeared in 2004 on the short-lived Derek Fudesco imprint Cold Crush Records. It was instant love for me. I mean c’mon, the first track of their debut Machinegong EP, a dubby Gang of Four-derived dance-punk number featuring these barely understandable, odd, insular and atonal vocals, was titled “Jamdek”! That same simple-yet-clever wordplay translates within their music. The riffs and rhythms are not necessarily overtly complicated, in fact, most of them are rather rudimentary, but the way they layer and mold, building songs vertically through a patchwork of archaic effects forces multiple listens before you even begin to crack the substratum of the music.

Kontpab, Mahjongg’s second proper full-length and first for the venerable Northwest label K Records, stays true to their established sound. The grooves and melodies are a bit more refined and patient than their previous releases, but thankfully the recording and retro-instrumental aesthetic remains heartily intact. Their sound derives from a number of sources: early 70s European krautrock (Can, Neu!, Faust, Harmonia), 70s NYC avant-garde rock (Silver Apples, Suicide), 80s dance-punk (Gang of Four, Public Image Ltd, Wire), an odd collection of more contemporary acts (Dub Narcotic Sound System, Chik Chik Chik, Timbaland, the GSL roster, Konono N°1) and the manic polyrhythms of more traditional African and Cuban music. Claustrophobic yes, unharnessable no.

After the percussion-heavy opener, “Problems” reverts to a simple boom-bap beat. Funky-snipped guitar riffs, early rap synth effects and glockenspiel twinkles join a heaving synthesizer melody. There are vocals, but they are patched dryly through a vocoder and utilized in the same manner you would a sample, so they act as yet another rhythmic device. “Those Birds are Bats” displays more of an anthemic approach from the band, complete with yell-along vocals and steady drum kit backbeat. They do however bury any sense of accessibility deep into the mix, letting weirdly pulsing guitar pings take the forefront and smoldering the main riff in a kaleidoscope of analog feedback and old-school psychedelic effects. Near the end of the disc, “Mercury” sounds like the Silver Apples jamming with Prince; a slightly sexy, spaced-out number that simultaneously spins in the orbit of psych-funk and obscuro art-rock.

I am glad to see Mahjongg reaching for bigger and better things now that they are signed with K Records. Most of the Cold Crush bands have dwindled and dissolved in the wake of the imprint’s demise. Their music, crossing both genre and crowd boundaries, remains handmade and collective influenced, but still sounds as if they are progressing as songwriters… well groove-makers. The analog patching makes for a refreshingly lo-fi sound, one that tends to escape most dance-punk purveyors as they can’t seem to shake the now ominous (and annoying) Daft Punk influence, which makes their new label home much more sensible. There may be some religious – er, cultish – aspect to Kontpab as well, though I’m guessing that is more just the product of a clever K press writer, but I can certainly see how Mahjongg’s music could groove you into a devout hypnosis.