The Fingers Inside – Blister EP (2007)

I’m quite proud of having discovered this band, honestly. Exploring the wilds of MySpace has become akin to an African safari nowadays, what with the overgrowth of the Internet, like a savage jungle, all over the ancient social network. And yet, the desperate little bit of archeology I performed on a dare yielded this find, which I think merits more exposure.

The dark, ominous jungle references aren’t accidental, since the music this elusive group posted on MySpace five years ago, never to be heard from again as far as I can tell, is some of the most moody, twisted and downright scary I’ve heard in a long while. I’m actually tempted to reference Lovecraftian horror when describing the tantalizing experience these songs weave. Their sound is very experimental, at least to my ears, and I’m having a hard time trying to decide whether it’s ravenous for additional instrumentation or if the rather minimalist way the songs are recorded is a fully conscious choice on their part. This tension between minimal expression and maximal effect is what caught my eye in the first place, although I can’t say it works on all the songs on the record. And I only say that because some of the songs aren’t really songs at all, coming across more like some form of poetry, although so lo-fi and so garbled it’s actually less spoken-word and more sonic texture. Now I might be in an unexpected phase of hipster frenzy, but I find myself liking it, although I wouldn’t call it “user friendly” at all. The record feels like watching a weird Terry Gilliam film in musical form.

The band gives very little detail about themselves. All I know is that they claim to be from France and there seem to be more names in the roster than instruments heard in the actual tracks, but then again, given the processed, garbled sound they work with, it’s really quite hard to tell who’s doing what on some of the songs. This stark, bleak, rough sound reminds me of early Cranes records, with a pinch of Neurosis thrown in, especially on the more drone driven, hilariously titled Post Traumatic Blowjob track. I get the distinct impression humor is a big part of what these guys were trying to accomplish – dark, twisted, gallows humor, with hefty doses of absurdity mixed in. As far as I’m concerned, it really hit a nerve.

Given the scarcity of material and the fact that this EP sounds more like a demo tape than anything else, I don’t think I can come up with anything more to say about The Fingers Inside, so I’ll let you enjoy their music, and see what happens. I was able to rip the songs off MySpace and upload them to YouTube, and I’m using the only visual  output the band associated with themselves as background images for the tracks. How’s that for cryptic and obscure? Enjoy!

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