14441162_833899826710416_3154338264589107194_nI started the day writing about how we live in a post-genre musical world when trying to describe how the cool of the underground was combining with more mainstream sounds to create a new, more palatable pop alternative. I end the day by writing about something that not only knocks down the generic barricades but climbs in a bulldozer and drives with abandon through any visible musical divides that might have ever existed.

Anyone calling themselves the Robocobra Quartet are probably going to be a little off the road well travelled but I wasn’t expecting quite what came out of my speakers. Lazy, sassy late night, bass driven jazz meanders through the middle of the music but either side of that grounding it wanders from musically minimal spoken word to roaring hardcore drives, from brass fuelled, art-punk expressions to drunken, hypnotic grooves. You couldn’t label it even if you wanted to. Not only is each song different from the last but within themselves they twist and turn, defying a handle and confounding the listener.

Often the songs sound like an improvised jam which is the Quartet’s live selling point so I guess even bolting the songs down to a recording only gives a rough idea of what the band are about and as is often the way, the live show is the best way to experience the band. Refreshingly odd and oddly refreshing.

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.


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