Traversing a Twisted Path review in MusicDish by Ben Ohmart

Okay, it's time to get smart now. In the mail came - an odd CD. Both in look and sound. Lemme wax prose on the package first. The CD comes in a fold-out lyric booklet in octagon shape, and you have to open every damn page in order to get to the center where the 70 minute CD lays. (70 minutes, yep! Ain't that nifty?) On each page are graphics of those little Erector Set-type thingies that are supposed to be DNA or something.

Let's face it, this could be a case of the musician being smarter than the reviewer. (Happens all the time, I know.) I had to look up the word 'helices' in my dictionary. Either I've got a cruddy one or it's not a word. But consider some of the lyrics that I'm coming into contact with.

"I was heating up a chicken roll in a microwave oven / I noticed the automatic doors open / then walked in a tragic figure covered in dirt / wearing a flannelette REM Reconstruction t-shirt / (the one with the monkey and the parrot on a bike.) / the Kobainular one appeared holy and Christlike." Can you guess the title of the song? That's right, it's "I Saw Kobain in a 7 11," and it's as whacked as the rest of the disc.

Guitar heavy "Morals Are Arbitrary" is what might happen if the monks suddenly got with it and musical. In fact, this is rather an experimental album, when compared to the mainstream side of the state. Like the lyrics, the music doesn't hold with accepted forms of pleasantness. And with a punk rock attitude at times, songs like "Kill 'em All (and Let God Sort them Out)" certainly tells you that these guys will never become politicians.

I like the CD. It's progressive in what it tries to accomplish. It's never boring and remains fresh a long time after opening. They give you something to think about, something to relate to. So I'll leave you with "All the Things in my Room." "pink knives, headless guitar / hanging bat and white chords / middle finger, scratch n sniff / what's up doc, and hot sauce." We're all brothers and sisters, friend, we all relate.

TWISTED HELICES || Ram Samudrala ||