There's a Twilight Zone episode where a woman lies in a hospital bed while a shadowed group of doctors gently break the news: Your face is horribly disfigured. Funny thing is, she looks pretty normal. Then the lights come up, and the doctors are shown to be pig-faced horrors. You know: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Rod Serling-style. The beauty of Yowie is certainly in the ear of the beholder. Describing this as noise music is unfair; it implies that they merely make noise. Fueled by frantic pounding from drummer Defenestrator (Shawn O'Connor to his mom), the band sounds like Einstein discovering the theory of relativity while hopped up on meth and psilocybin -- genius ideas of how everything connects spewed raw and uncontained, formulae and fact swirling in broken code, riding between rational thought and complete breakdown. Now that the band's signed to Skin Graft Records and is working on a full-length album, the grandiose chaos of Yowie will soon be loosed on the world. Will the world understand it? Not even Rod Serling could say.
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