Gilla Band, PISS

Saturday, October 24 · Turf Club

Doors 7:00pm · Show 8:00pm

★ racket - Look people, we have got to spread the hot gigs out better—I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do Saturday night. A standard four-piece vox-gtr-bass-drums rock band in appearance, these Irish fellers play so consistently in the red that their music more closely resembles some tech wiz’s industrial clamor than, I dunno, Geese or whoever. “The trick,” as bassist Daniel Fox told Pitchfork’s Laura Snapes, “is to be louder than everyone else.” The quartet’s new album, Pugnello, strips down further toward pure blare—is that powerhouse drummer Adam Faulkner battering out those confounding rhythms or a machine or both?—with frontman Dara Kiely’s rants providing the barest melodies. The lyrics that emerge from the din make me listen closer, though in the tradition of Mark E. Smith, Kiely gets as much out of an exasperated “ohhhh” as he does from lines like “I'm injecting a lethal dose of nothing/I'm blaring a dangerous amount of Coldplay.”