(02.28.05) While the rest of the hip downtown set may be caught up in a strange
disco resurgence, Tussle has taken to the underground. Kling Klang
plays out like a street-savvy quartet working their favorite corner in
the subway, finding dub echoes in the long hallways and percussive
reverberations in the rattle of the trains. Driven by the bass
player, these eleven instrumentals ignore any need for vocals.
Percussion is supplied by both a regular drum kit and a percussionist
with a penchant for anything not nailed down. It’s all about rhythm,
baby, and Kling Klang simply grooves.
“Here It Comes” barrels out of the gate, setting the room on fire with
its snappy tempo. “Nightfood” echoes with the scarred remnants of a
vocal call, a cry of “Everybody!” that echoes with the history of call
and response while the floor shivers and shakes with reckless abandon.
“Eye Contact” is electric with that moment of initial dance floor
spark between two people, sizzling with a sonorous echo of possibility
and humming with expectant breath. A milk bottle rattle sends shivers
up your spine as you edge closer to one another on the dance floor.
“Disco D’oro” wheezes with expressed air and chatters with a light
hyaloid percussion as an uptempo high hat shoves us into strobe light
space, all a-glitter with the gold dust of disco fever.
Hailing from San Francisco, Tussle are the west coast version of NYC’s
Organic Grooves and their hearts all beat as one, caught up in their
prog disco dub. Without the heavenside layer of vocals and guitar,
this subterranean quartet have caught the below ground pulse — the
systolic echo of your fervent need to boogie. Kling Klang sets its
hook from the opening moments of “Here It Comes” (as straight forward
a warning as you can get) and doesn’t let go through the last
reverberation of “Tight Jeans.” Longer, actually. I hit “Repeat”
more than once on this one.
Kling Klang is out now on Troubleman Unlimited.
