Satin Black

Paik are wicked conjurers of a seriously delirious thunder, unleashing a maelstrom of sound that is as lilting as it is crushing. A power trio of guitar/bass/drums, the band first streaked across the Michigan space-gaze scene in 1997, seeking to chart out new aural frontiers in a rock format. With the industrial playground of Detroit serving as their gritty muse, Paik seem to have discovered their own particular portal in sound, a massive sonic whirlpool capable of absorbing everything in its sphere. Setting Paik truly apart from the pack is their uncanny ability to combine grace with grit, a balancing act that matches melodic, multi-hued sonorities with powerful furnace blasts of volume. With three albums under their belt, as well as an appearance on a 3-way split CD with Kinski and Surface of Eceyon, Satin Black is the band's latest foray into sound; an expansive, densely woven album laden with dreamscapes heavier than any the band has unfurled before.

Swelling with lush yet careworn soundscapes, Satin Black plays host to a mosaic of textures, decorating arrangements that are majestic in scope but never abandon the will to "rawk." Walls of guitar provide the magic carpet, but Paik is no mere shoegaze or space rock act. At low volume the guitars ring and chime, at blistering volume they are gritty and rugged, a worn-in sound layered with rusted haze. Throughout Satin Black, odd tunings and gallons of guitar afterburn wash up with bottom-heavy riff and gigantic drums. Evoking the roaring resonance of Kevin Shields' levitating guitar innovations and the minimalist weight of a band like Earth, Paik are a heady force on the avant rock map. Satin Black is truly a beautiful noise.