OMA YANG reviews

CMJ
Thanks to Tortoise, a mini-glut of post-rock instrumental acts has arisen. And as with any exploding genre, it can be difficult for a band to distinguish itself. Thus, on From The Heart Of Jumbo Malaria, Oma Yang chooses to focus on the "rock" in "post-rock." In fact, it gets downright psychotic. So while the lush, rambling songs have eyebrow-raising titles like "Spiders Making Love Like Bears" and "There Is No General Chow In Team," they're also musical encapsulations of lunacy. The slow, careful guitar progressions and gorgeous, rippling percussion often deteriorate into noisy, breakneck-speed spurts of improvisational-flavored jazz. The best display of this madness comes at the three-and-a-half minute mark of the otherwise gentle "Corn On One Side," when a Boredoms-style outburst erupts for a minute before the tune settles into another half minute of quiet gurgling sounds. With such wild, unexpected disturbances throughout Jumbo Malaria, the only response is to smile insanely along with Oma Yang.
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TOKION MAGAZINE
Good, old fashioned math rock by a couple of guys who call themselves "New Traditionalists." Apparently they're trying to keep the long lost spirit of Don Caballero alive, playing tricky, noodly, mostly instrumental indie rock songs with ironic titles. We're ready to place our hands on the stack of fanzines and pledge allegiance.
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THE PORTLAND MERCURY
Band geeks rule the music room! Can I say that, without sounding like I'm slighting this mathy San Diego four-piece? I just can't shake the image in my head of stoic lunchtime jam sessions for the musically inclined and socially dispossessed, who later found their stride as indie rockers. Oma Yang live comfortably in the post-Slint community of technically accomplished instrumental bands that let their musical moxie stand as their content. Lacking a singer to supply narrative cues, Oma Yang work on a touch and go cohesion, reeling in the instruments that had all struck out in their own directions. The disparate lines create a scattered and emotionally vague atmosphere that slowly finds its rhythm and builds to a consensus over the course of the songs. (3 out of 4 stars)
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AVERSION
If thereıs a refuge anywhere in the music world for weighty pretense itıs within the confines of instrumental post-rock. Where else can a group retreat into a world where every single pick-stroke, drum hit and bass pluck are deconstructed by listeners to divine its every nuance? Is there any other place where tempo shifts make headlines, where guitar amplification is taken as seriously as, say, true love? Itıs no wonder, then, that so many instrumental acts come off as a bit haughty ­ itıs because they are.
Oma Yang picks up the instrumental post-rock (comparisons to Don Caballero or Roots of Orchis wouldnıt be too far off the mark), but Bang Bang lacks any of the pretense thatıs usually associated with instrumental rock. Sure, itıs got all the staples of post-rock, be it loping bass lines that trade the spotlight with sleepy guitars ("By June or Join Us"), latin-inspired rhythms and droning keys ("Identity Less Broken than Cold") and the up/down arrangements that come with long-winded arrangements to break monotony ("No Back Door to Heaven, Just a Front Door to Hell"), but Oma Yang never approaches its music with the pomp and circumstance of highbrow jammers. No, thereıs no quest to mix music theory with indie rock, calculus with drumming or a delight at educating the feeble masses with complicated, twisting song structures.
Instead, Oma Yang approaches its music with glee. Thereıs a sense of wonder that comes with its instrumental magic ­ expect the kind of spells youıd expect Harry Potter, not Gandalf to cast. Thereıs a sense of whimsy deep below the bandıs surface, albeit none of the swinging London whimsy so hip lately in instrumental circles. Oma Yang could sit at the head of the class and it could be the class clown, but itıd rather split the difference with fun-loving and light post-rock.
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GHETTO BLASTER
There's a new school of experimental rock out there far away from Tortoise's post-rock, yet still contain that melodicism. Oma Yang start with some analog swerves before a drum solo that's between Elvin Jones' freak outs and the no wave beating of Jandek's drummer in their short lived percussive period. Guitars shred in and out in alerted blasts from off kilter melodies before breaking into standard melodies. It can be compared to Storm and Stress, Pavement's more out there moments, and perhaps a more hopeful Sonic Youth. That said, there are enough moments of straight ahead contemporary rock to make this enjoyable, but enough invention to keep things interesting. Basically they hold back what you expect and want, and give you things you don't expect every once in awhile. Theyıre proficient players stripping down melodies, and reconfiguring structures. Good stuff and worth a look at. Now if the next album can not have a near naked man on the cover, I'd be even more happy, but yaı know I'm comfortable with that and yaı know these guys just wannaı mess with yaı.
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FINE PRINT MAG
This album is risky. No, not Iggy Pop risky or even Liza Minelli risky. This is just sophomoric risky. Think of how many of those little indie homophobes are going to hesitate buying this album because it has some guyıs ass facing the camera as he stands on the edge of a cliff in his tidy whities? Probably a few too many, which is a shame, because the album is actually fairly decent. Sure, there seems to be a gross excess of math rock, indie bands around these days and it becomes a bit difficult to tell them apart, but Oma Yang has a few things working for them that others donıt.
The first is the aforementioned homoeroticism found in the layout. Nothing says, "Whoa! Crazy!" like some dude jumping off a cliff in his undies. Oh, did I mention the bandıs name is written right across his ass? See how fucking subversive that is? Theyıre making you look at the dudeıs ass. Thatıs fucked up -unless youıre gay, then itıs kind of cool, I guess.
The second is, they start off the album with a drum solo. For all the wankery involved in math rock and particular how self indulgent the drummersŠ and bassists and guitarists and singers and producers and fans and groupies and label heads are, none of the albums Iıve heard this year have begun with a drum solo, and so I give credit to the band for bucking the trend. The actual song itself doesnıt begin till the next track which is your run of the mill math rock, underscored with a few flashes of great song writing appearing from time to time in its seven minute length. "No Back Door To Heaven, Just a Front Door To Hell" is Roadside Monument at their harshest and darkest, but without any of the technical elements involved that Johnsonıs drumming invariably brought to the music. Syncopated rhythms are kept to a minimum and give the song a more organic feel without ever truly sacrificing the math rock vibe present throughout.
The band does drop a few notches from time to time and mellows out as is the case on "By June or Join Us." Where Jets to Brazil is completely unable to write a soft song that doesnıt sound dead, Oma Yang writes a haunting and tranquil track built entirely around two guitars and the bass, playing harmony against one another. A superb choice is made on the part of the band to follow up "June" with "Dutch or Something? Or Nothing" which seems almost to be the same song, but grown up and fleshed out. Drums join the song and the rhythm picks up speed - but the dreamy, almost tranquil feeling of the song is preserved.
The band does go full on math a few times. "Oh Yeah, I get Jokes" is about as mathy as you get, but the band doesnıt seem to be concerned with the redundant bassline transposed over equally redundant guitars. Thereıs a certain repetition involved, but the freeform melodies played by the guitar and the feeling the music is able to convey elevates it beyond simple math self indulgence and actually allows the listener to enjoy the song from start to finish with ever even noticing the occasional repetition of a hook. Bang Bang is a surprising collection of mature songs, contrary to what the cover would lead you to believe. The band never lets on how the cover fits in with the music and it never really has to because of the songwriting's strength. So, disregard whatever prejudices might arise from the cover (as I had to after I was certain I'd be hearing some lame ass frat boy rock band) and check the album out.
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BRAINWASHED
"Bang bang! That awful sound!" said Cher in a song of the same name, and like any critical listener in search of a cheap laugh I was primed to apply that reference here. After all, it's easy enough for an instrumental rock group to come off as either hideously discordant or sleep-inducingly masturbatory. But the problem is, even the most awful sounds on Oma Yangıs second full-length release are sublime, and theirs is the sort of masturbation you'd pay good money to see (though you might not want to volunteer for clean-up duty afterwards). On the front cover of this particular 'Bang Bang' CD, a sloppy-looking man wearing wet, baggy underwear contemplates an algae-spotted river from the shore. On the back cover, he just dives right in. Drums, bass and guitar come together on this occasionally harrowing mix of tracks, sometimes joined by a welcome synth or organ. When these guys throw rock, jazz, and smooth psychedelia into the mix, does it work? It can be as beautiful as a quiet, echoing horn on "Oh Yeah...I Get Jokes" and as jarring as the tempo changes and discordant notes on "No Backdoor To Heaven, Just A Front Door To Hell." Somehow, even the studio trickery and synth warblings of "A Paper Bag Holds Great Secrets" manages to fit in and sound chummy. Just as the jangling and thumping begins to get on your nerves the mood will switch to something placid as a rippling brook (a quiet song you could knit a sweater to while humming along)...but before the track is over that sloppy guy will jump right in again and shake things up, dropping stitches and jumping influences, proving that the Oma Yang guys know more than just how to write cute song titles. The best songs on this CD are over five minutes long, allowing the band to expand, twist, distort, and demolish their theme, leaving me eagerly awaiting the day they decide to record a single hour-long track. "Awful sound?" Well, occasionally yes, but in a good way. Sometimes lush, sometimes minimal, always capable and never dull is Oma Yang.
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ACTION ATTACK HELICOPTER
In case you haven't noticed, it seems like all kinds of instrumental bands are popping up lately. A lot of people are calling it a new trend and cast their blame on groups like Tortoise, while others take a chance and try out some of these new groups. I hope you're a part of the latter, or you could miss out on Oma Yang.

On their first full-length, From the Heart of Jumbo Malaria, Oma Yang bring us 9 songs that clock in at about 55 minutes. Obviously this means the songs are long, but for the most part Oma Yang keeps things interesting. Unlike other San Diego­area bands such as Tristeza and The Roots of Orchis­Oma Yang knows when to press the gas pedal. While songs like "There is no General Chow in Team" starts off slow and builds over time, it's in songs like "The Moon in the Cancer" that the band truly shines. Guitars play off of each other to create flowing melodies with enough kick from the rhythm section that the band doesn't become boring; "The Moon in the Cancer" shows the perfect blend of tempo and melody. In other songs, such as "The Roots of Orchis Drinks Cheap Beer," Oma Yang constructs a delicate pattern of sound, with the guitar and bass lines all interweaving with each other to form a sonic quilt of beauty. Overall, Oma Yang gives us a fine first full-length. If the band keeps progressing, I can't wait to see what's next. (Action Attack Helicopter)
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Oma Yang online interview, Here.