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If pressed to classify Bee vs. Moth’s debut album, one would most likely futilely revert to “jazz,” though that hardly does justice to the strange and far-reaching versatility that sprawls throughout the instrumental album. From the opening song, appropriately titled “Doom Equity” and introducing the band with a contorting overture of various genres pillaged on what follows, the group seems intent on defying expectations. An electric guitar spikes the first note, followed by bursting big band horns, all of which segue into an almost metal drudge after the first minute, something akin to Boris collaborating with Ornette Coleman. Inexplicably, by minute three the song has dropped into a vibraphone tiki beat and trumpet solo, as an ominous bass slowly builds to swell and we’re back where we started. And that’s just the first song.
That playful attitude never dissipates, and at times is even overthrown with a zesty ridiculousness. “My Nephew Raymond” vacillates between a cartoonish spree of the Tuba bounce and a salsa-flavored sway, while the almost 8-minute long “Rock ‘N’ Roll Monkey Pants” is fairly well-summed up by its name - a rhythmic snare and bass marching behind an arabesque of improvised horns and a rustling that is most likely the “box of glass” listed among the instruments, all of which explodes in a screech of free jazz freak-out by the end. Ivo Gruner’s trumpet seems to lead the core quartet on many of the songs, though the real versatility of their sound lies in Philip Moody’s bass and Sarah Norris’ percussion (Aaryn Russell rounds out the lineup on guitar, while additional horns are contributed by Jerome Smith, Holland Hopson, and Mariah McPhail, with Brent Fariss supplying upright bass).
“Tjamls” may be the most traditionally jazzy of the tunes, guitar and horn solos backed by light cymbals and smooth bass line. But given the wavering electronic buzz accenting “Pancake Factory” or the sturm und drang of “Lead Foot’s” metal hammer, the album is as restless as a hive on fire, or to continue the play on their name, a moth darting dangerously close the bug zapper. Elsewhere “Absurdity Weather System” fluctuates in a tempest of its own, while closer “This Ungoatly Hour” builds from an almost ambient thrumming to the requisite horn crescendo and strafed guitar, dropping into a lonesome trumpet solo, and then bursting into a frenetic conclusion. This is jazz for the ADD generation.
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