Pataphysics

Pataphysics

The New Wave revivalism practiced by Patrick Healy and company dodges easy veneration at every turn. Pataphysics resemble scatter-happy scamps whose dramatic play involves setting fire to action figures. The local fivepiece enters a cultural salvage yard and builds a nitrous-infused atmosphere from snatches of hardcore Devo, pre-film score Danny Elfman, and They Might Be Giants' Dial-A-Song archive along with found public access video and obsolete computer software. Running through 23 tracks in 30 minutes, this royal purple cassette boasts more transitions than Laugh-In on fast-forward. "Cropped Out" courts herky-jerk heartbreak in the age of Photoshop. Post-9/11 travelscape "Airport" puts the absurdity of security theatre into sharp relief. And 10-second interstitials remind listeners to buckle up or die. A higher reading might intuit this as over-networked alienation in a fun-house mirror, or caffeinated commentary on the inflated importance afforded technology when a fritzed-up phone is deemed "about to die." If you can't log off, might as well have fun playing in the ruins.