Gong Lake

Behold: Neptune, the most harrowingly original band on this planet or the next. Its three members are, in turn, musicians, sculptors, scientists, blacksmiths, electricians, and industrial machinists; relentlessly inventive, possibly sane. Together, they construct all of their instruments, forging guitars and drums out of circular saw blades, gas tanks, oil drums, bike parts, VCR casings, and miscellany from the trash. Electronics, and even cords, are homemade as well. The combined effect is a bizarre, post-apocalyptic melange of steel, iron, wire, rust, rivet, knob, and cable; it's lunacy, arc-welded for maximum destruction. Concerts are seizures of motion. Wearing 40-pound guitars assembled entirely from scrap metal, the members don't play their instruments they battle them, like mechanized golems. But make no mistake, this is not simply art with sharp edges and serious customs issues. Neptune rocks. Hard. Recalling the slapdash angularity of The Fall, the rhythmic ack-ack blasts of This Heat, and the sheer proto-clangor of Einstuerzende Neubauten, they count as one of the best experimental rock bands of any era. Their dynamic, expertly wrought songs and skilled improvisations don't start; they explode.Gong Lake is the band's first unlimited CD release, and with it the world will discover what fans of their live shows have known for years: Neptune is otherworldly.