A Minor Forest
Flemish Altruism

"A Minor Forest Supports the Destruction of Mankind." 

This was the band's slogan... charming, right? However, perhaps after listening to their music, one might resonate with the philosophy underlying this provocative expression.

If you're looking for Math Rock that defies conventions (assuming such conventions can be established for this genre), unpredictable, dissonant, unrelentingly unsettling, at times languid, and at times furious and sulfurous, then "Flemish Altruism," the debut album by A Minor Forest, might be just what you need.

It's 1996, and the San Francisco trio makes its LP debut, boasting production by the ever-present Steve Albini (and his touch is, as usual, very noticeable).

The important thing when approaching this record is the awareness that it won’t be exactly an immediate listen, requiring a fair amount of patience and a good thirst for unusual compositions. It's a long album often containing deliberate expansions, be they of dreamlike and apathetic landscapes ("Perform a critical Straw Transfer") or extreme cathartic outbursts ("The loneliest enuretic").

The sense of desperation and bewilderment reaches its peak in the final part of "Bill's Mom likes to Fuck" with Hoversten's raucous and primal screams conveying deep discomfort (vaguely reminiscent of the "I miss you!" at the end of "Spiderland"); if nothing else, this piece takes 7 minutes to warm up, allowing time to gradually acclimate to the infernal atmosphere, passing through hallucinatory atmospheres indebted to Slint and similar post-rockers.

In "Jacking Off George Lucas," we even find the muted and subdued tones of Codeine, with some bursts of madness surfacing here and there, causing a sense of disorientation in the listener. The use of the cello is another variable in this multifaceted work; it can be appreciated, for example, in "Ed is 50," where it contributes to increasing the already considerable dissonance. Unfortunately, the fourth track overindulges in verbosity, stretching to 14 interminable minutes that give no respite and leave the listener quite exhausted after a long journey through insistent arpeggios to the point of obsession, great-level drum sound storms, and violent feedback. There are also episodes of excellent psychedelia to mention ("Beef Rigger"), always fully in "Math" style.

The 73-minute duration is probably the real weak point of this work, even if the genius moments are numerous; a greater synthesis might have been preferable, as in "Rusty" by Rodan (an absolute masterpiece), but for enthusiasts, it is an interesting album, definitely worth discovering.