Parts & Labor: Constant Future
I imagine Parts & Labor HQ in Brooklyn to have one room which is rammed to the ceiling with slowly becoming obsolete technology that has been salvaged and lovingly restored by the duo B.J. Warshaw and Dan Friel. These machines spend most of the year joyfully chirping and bleeping to one another oblivious to the outside world. And then, when their whimsy takes them, Warshaw and Friel unlock the door and offer up a secret incantation that makes the technology sing the sweetest and most uplifting of melodies. The pair add driving and filthy bass, hammering drums and crunching guitars, and an album is born. The door is then closed and the machines continue to discourse to one another in their own perplexing and contented way.
I don’t care if this scenario has no basis in reality; all you need to know is that Constant Future is another stunning and essential album by Parts & Labor. It’s noisy, often fast, always euphoric, and with the folkish hint to the vocals (often ignored in reviews) the album retains a sense of a bucolic past that compliments and counters the analogue/digital retro-future ritually conjured elsewhere. It’s the perfect example of why rock music has a bright future when handled by people with an imagination, foresight and intelligence.
Constant Future might be less of a noise-electro-punk headfuck as Mapmaker or Stay Afraid, but only the naïve and frankly stupid ignore a band for maturing and honing their sound. Just buy it.