By Roy Kasten
By Kris Wernowsky
By Chaz Kangas
By Joseph Hess
By Julie Seabaugh
By Mike Appelstein
By Rachel Brodsky
By Kelsey McClure
Enemymine makes black-hole rock & roll. It is the sound of rock in its last stage of life, stripped to just the rhythm section. In Enemymine's binary bass system, a punk bass guitar and a heavy-metal bass guitar are locked in each other's gravitational pulls, furiously gaining mass until one of the bass stars supernovas and starts blasting out X-ray distortion while a lone drummer pounds out time-warped signatures as he's pulled in all possible directions by the monumental forces swirling around him.
Mike Kunka -- formerly of godheadsilo -- is one bass lobe. Mike is Geddy Lee if Geddy came from Fargo, listened to black metal and wasn't afraid to shout, "It's simple/Prepare for World War IV!" while riding a tsunami of fuzzed-out bass sine waves. His bass is black on black, Iommi-sized power chords smashed face-first into Greg Ginn's sliding-across-the-ice solos circa 1984.
Ryan Baldoz, who used to be in Some Velvet Sidewalk, the other bass lobe, gives as good as he gets. Ryan's bass plays Sherman's march to Mike's Atlanta, burning fields and salting the earth as he goes. "You won't see me laughing at you/You won't see me laughing at your funeral" comes Ryan's subharmonic battle cry, and he plays his part in Enemymine's scorched-earth conspiracy with all the restraint of someone who has discovered Celtic Frost and Flipper in one afternoon.
Trapped in this war of gargantuas is drummer Dan Sasaki. He takes advantage of momentary silences to up the ante by stitching the late-'70s cop-show tension-building hi-hat riff across the nose of "Setting the Traps," but when the time comes to swallow his tongue and make with the freakout, he punches time like Lalo Schifrin on Quaaludes. It's all threes, fives and sevens with this guy, and if you don't like it, tough shit. As it says on the back of the album, "All rights reserved/all suckers served."