Oakland is home to this odd mix of noise dealers. I say "odd" only because when you prepare to watch this band for the first time, and you haven't already seen a picture of them, you're not really sure who's "in the band" and who's there to watch them. That's very pleasing. There is an air of unpredictability about this band. These innocent, yet oddly familiar faces step on-stage and start making this raw, headstrong racket. Then the singer seems to fall off the stage, tumbbling with mic and mic-stand in hand. The guy was teatering at the edge of the stage, so you figure that it was bound to happen once. Right? By the third time he plows forward into the audience you begin to understand the "fall" is really an invitation. The crowd stands back, as if they didn't want the invite to chaos. Oops! Too late! He pops up in the middle of 4 or 5 people after tunneling into the thicket. All the while, the band behind him continues to pump and occilate a pained tempo. Guitar pickups are positioned directly in front of the amp, the bassist hanging off the edge of the stage, then jumping down, and back up, only to be tackled by the singer and dragged back down. The drummer, almost normal in demeanor, unflinchingly maintians the rhythm despite the 20 minutes of glorious chaos that unfolds in front of him. I had a riot at this show. http://home.san.rr.com/tasteslikepoison/index02.html