Outta sight

Vision Thing, whose members include Phoenix Associate Arts Editor Ted Drozdowski and freelance contributor Lisa Susser, have released their first CD on CherryDisc. We asked Philadelphia Inquirer music critic Tom Moon to review the album for us. The band will have their CD-release party at T.T. the Bear's Place on March 1.

But something happens when pen (even poison pen) is traded for ax. With a few exceptions (Lenny Kaye of the Patti Smith Group and the gentlemen of Yo La Tengo), bands peopled by critics are tedious. Why? Can we attribute this to oft-ridiculed rock-scribe fussiness? That obsessive need to prove an understanding of the basic conventions, to lay to rest all questions related to obscure band-personnel factoids and arcane harmonic knowledge? Is it that we as an audience expect more from people who use words like "eschew" and spend inordinate amounts of time sifting through banal, time-wasting albums? These are, after all, people who should know better.

Maybe it's just cowardice. When it comes time to define a soundscape rather than pick one apart, some erstwhile critics might be reluctant to take the chances they routinely expect from others. Which is why Vision Thing are such a surprise: six musicians who have invested some serious energy in the task of shedding the critic's judgmental minimum-competency checklist. In its place: a roller-coasting swirl of tension and release that makes virtually every track on the band's CherryDisc debut a passion play.

Linking Belly's focused rhythmic thrust to a thick layer of dissonance-friendly guitar buzz, the Vision Thing rhythm section speak in that now-ubiquitous Seattle secret code, a steady, steamrolling bass-and-drums grumble. But rather than leave this perfunctory backdrop alone, the musicians work to reinforce the hooks with crisp, precise execution. The syncopations that energize "Here We Are" come from the land of jazz fusion; the tempo changes that grace "Testify" and others reveal a conservatory sophistication. Although it may sound simple at first, this is not music for dummies.

If guitarists Ted Drozdowski and Jim Foster appear "schooled," at least they're not afraid to get dirty. Throughout this guitar-heavy project, on anthemic romps and more subdued mediations, the two are determined to investigate as many different ways of generating noise as possible. They might begin with a traditional rhythm-guitar phrase played in hardscrabble unison, but soon they're off into contrasting worlds -- one sustaining a high-pitched single note while the other crunches out eighth-note lines in the cellar. They're not afraid of odd juxtaposition: there are moments of overwhelming distortion right up against needling single-line solo statements, and episodes in which the typical four-on-the-floor rhythm grind is supplanted by gorgeous, often tempoless atmospherics.

It's a wonder Susser, who sometimes resembles Natalie Merchant in a rare unguarded moment, doesn't get trampled by the instrumental din more often. One problem with Vision Thing is the Mix Thing. By subscribing to the indie-rock belief that the voice should be buried (or at least subordinated) in the overall assault, the band do Susser a disservice. Singing about unexpected conflict in relationships, sketching people caught in patterns they can't break, Susser conjures pain and loss and struggle, but she does so without exaggerating, or celebrating victimhood à la Hole. Yet she sometimes has to be extravagant. She's fighting to be heard, working too hard to invest the existential realizations of "Here We Are" with powerful resonance.

This would be more of a problem with less inventive musicians. At least this unit's backing mayhem, in which familiar chord sequences are reconfigured to jarring new specifications, deepens the emotional tone of the songs with dramatic shifts in volume and density. Even when the details blur, it's impossible to miss the raw, torn-apart feeling at the center of "Here We Are," or the ruminating regret that fuels "Blue Eyed Son."

That ability to suggest an entire inner landscape without overt explication is the mark of great songwriting. But it's only one reason to forget the stereotypes about critics as musicians and seek out Vision Thing. At a time when so-called alternative music has become a copycat enterprise, this outfit recombines familiar elements to kick out one intense, wholly individual firestorm of sound.