Some call it “experimental.” Others prefer “noise rock.”
ITunes narrowed it down to “electronic,” “rock” and “alternative.” But band member Aaron Warren probably put it best.
“(Our music) doesn’t have to be tied up in the dogma of some specific genre,” Warren said.
The now-Brooklyn-based band Black Dice formed at the Rhode Island School of Design in 1997. Even in this age when any garage can just as easily become a recording studio, they quickly established themselves as one of the more original-sounding groups to take the stage. The group emerged from a rising punk rock scene in their native Providence, and their sound is consistent with the spirit of this background.
“The music was really confrontational, which just made sense considering the environment,” Warren explained. “It was just the nature of the punk music scene in Providence at that time: music that was really abrasive and in your face.”
Their influences, however, extend beyond their origins. Their move from Providence to New York contributed some, taking them from a relatively small background to a breeding ground of mass culture.
“It’s pretty abstract, and I really think living in the city and dealing with an urban lifestyle has a lot more to do with the music than anything else,” Warren said. “It’s challenging and exhilarating, and you have to deal with a lot of strife.”
The origin of the sound could also be attributed to the equipment that was used to record the band’s practice sessions. The group originally opted to use coarse, basic equipment, which didn’t provide much room for post-recording polishing.
“I was always working with a four-track recorder,” band member and co-founder Eric Copeland explained. “I feel like I always worked with stuff that way; you had something, then you couldn’t record over it.”
The rusticity of the instruments also adds to the grimy feel of the compositions.
“(The equipment is) just a bunch of old electric stuff,” Warren said. “Some we got off eBay, some we had custom made. It’s all pretty crude.”
But whether their sound is attributed to their background or their equipment, Black Dice’s music still remains beyond the reach of conventional characterizations. The band’s songs aren’t divided into verse and chorus. Lyrics, in any form, are rare.
Fusions of grating guitar riffs, bass lines and random percussion come together to form a shapeless composition. It’s like what static would sound like in a cool and melodic future. Imagine if you could pull an Alex Mack and melt yourself into a Capri-Sun-like liquid and flow through an electrical outlet. Black Dice music is probably what you would hear.
“Our sound is very intense, very prickly,” Warren said. “We don’t appeal to people who exclusively like certain types of music.”
But while Black Dice won’t likely appeal to listeners with very specific tastes, Warren pictures his audience as having some underlying musical proclivities in common.
“I grew up going to punk shows, and I think of the audience members as being younger versions of myself,” Warren said. “People who are into abrasive, loud and fast music.”
And while the sounds could be considered abrasive, the band uses its performances to, among other things, take the audience away from the everyday.
“I just want people to feel stoked and have a good time and feel like they’ve been a part of something that was meaningful to them,” Warren said. “There’s so much stuff going on everywhere, I think it can be really distracting, and when you can get your mind off those things, you can really engage it.”
The group has performed around the globe, bringing this goal with them everywhere from Finland to Brazil to Montana.
“My favorite show was in San Sebastian, Spain, in the Basque region,” Warren said. “It was a punk show put on by a dance performer in a restaurant set on a cliff, and we had 150 kids squeeze in there.”
The band’s appeal seems to be as sporadically universal as its touring venues, reaching random niches across a broad spectrum of music tastes and geography.
Black Dice doesn’t fit in any categories, and that seems to be the way the members planned it.
“It’s about not having tons of rules or doing what you think is OK,” Copeland said. “You don’t answer to (anybody). Keep your blinders on and do what makes you happy.”