There’s sometimes a fine line between bold experimental music and inconsistent pretentious noisy gibberish. Brooklyn-based trio Black Dice have always been balanced between those two sides of the same coin. On Mr. Impossible, they clearly went for the latter, discarding any attempt at creativity, dynamics, or even remote progression in their tracks. Most of this album sounds like the neverending agony of a dying keyboard, a broken drum machine and sampled vocals compressed to the point you can’t understand a single word. Take ‘Outer Body Drifter’, a techno-ish industrial jam. It starts with a big bass drum and sound effects before a melodic but distorted synth introduces an out-of-tune synth line and under-the-water bubbly vocals are stretched and disassembled. The whole thing is a real nightmare to listen to, and not even in a provocative or challenging way.
‘Pinball Wizard’, ‘The Jacker’, ‘Brunswick Sludge’, ‘Pigs’: every single one of these tracks sets you on the path to headaches and nausea, for there’s nothing to hold on to, no hope of finding a hook, a good song structure, an exciting shift, or even a decent use of your time. The guys from Black Dice surely thought after recording Mr. Impossible their audacity would be enough this time to hide the complacence of the lazy pranks they put together and called an album. But even noise, industrial-music, and experimental pop fans will easily see through.