The Octopus Project: "Wet Gold"

I was first introduced to the Octopus Project via the Zellner brothers’ short film Flotsam/Jetsam, something I’d recommend heartily to anyone with a cloying penchant for scuba. At the time thinking they were no more than producers of library music with a thing for eight-limbed squigglers, I memorized the name and that was that. Then, at a loose end one Sunday I googled them, and—Yo ho ho!—like the map to the chest on the bottom of the seabed it led me to “Wet Gold,” the latest challis of chirps from the spunky Texan quartet. Having toppled Spin and Pitchfork with shockwaves from accidental gelignite, the indietronic headbangers would seem to have more tricks up their sleeve than Travis Bickle in attack mode, even going so far as to swap instruments during gigs to keep critics from shuffling to the bar. This latest adage to their canon comes in the wake of last year’s Hello, Avalanche LP, and marks their first “Made In Britiain” release thanks to the help of London’s melting pot Too Pure. Which is ironic, considering the bastardized beauty of this ana-digi impurity.

Twirling playfully like Michelangelo’s nunchucks, the track unfolds with a keyboard hum and some choreographed ping-pong, lowering the blinds seductively before the guts of the rumpus kick in. In this case, though, it’s a play-fight, and as live drumming begins to gel with twinkling searchlights and wails of theremin, it’s obvious that this eerie horseplay will bait you well beyond its humble three minutes. As it winds down there’s something of an air of Aloha Hawaii to it; cold and murky discos and the sight of Múm slumming it, but whatever your palette it’ll definitely help you spool through any brain-ache with its straight-up infectious simplicity. I for one will be keeping an eye out for the Project in future, especially if their next trick is that neato camouflage routine that the Army’s been secretly trying to copy.