Peacock Lounge: Fletcher Pratt, Hen House, Heco, 100,000,000 Unread Messages
All-ages, $5-$15 notaflof
Fletcher Pratt
Darkitecture of the mind’s inmost spaces, that is Fletcher Pratt’s speciality. Boundless in abstraction yet never disjointed, his sounds stretch like skin continuous across an impossible skeleton, inexorable in motion, shifting lithe and unseen. On this night, an epidermal split leaks that bone darkness into the light, the jugular tapped as video, spilling in both digital and analogue synthesis.
Hen House
Want in, or do you want out? Which is the cage and which the escape? Forget the foxes, evil arrives ever from within, between, behind, below. Violence is already passe. It’s predator-free living that conjures the deepest darkness, unhatched death denied, an embrace that would keep and never kill. What is wanting? Behold as this hag-industrial duo measures out sound one mountain at a time, pinning you beneath the monstrosity of intimacy, the plangent abyss of an eternal interior. Let their “Her Thrown” album aquaint you with objectless terror, no escape from what awaits inside that roost without rulers: the gold hold of the Peacock Lounge.
https://hen-house.bandcamp.com/album/her-thrown
Heco
If you think you know him, there’s no way you do and if you think you don’t then likely you’re onto him like if ever you’ve realized the Christian war vets who just performed, or the squirming aliens that burst from chrysalis right at your feet, or the band that seemed to sing and move backwards til the stage was empty and no one clapped, or whose soundcheck was actually lipsynched to a pre-recorded soundcheck, or that one excruciating live birth at great american, or the conlon nanacarrow records offspeed at a slew of shows up some stairs in the lower bottoms at… a certain palace, running over himself with his own truck, reminiscent of the legendary Mono Pause, a master carpenter, a jack of all attacks, the anti-cheshirecat and leader of the Starvation Army Marching Band, then you also know there’s no guessing what he’ll do this night, or on any other. Just don’t miss, and don’t get hit.
100,000,000 Unread Messages
There exist unknowable things that you can’t know because they are so numerous they constitute a whole set, the null set, the abyss, and yet it has your name all over it. Time to get started somewhere, you aren’t alone in fact the number of minds who cannot know excede even the number of unknown things and when abysses overlap… well the duo of Isabelle Waldner Kalb & Conner Tomaka will take it from there.