“What genre are they?”
God damn it! Were just not fucking listening to me at all? I said that question doesn’t really apply to Capillary Action at all. Open your damn ears! They’re impossible to pin down. If you’re really looking for something you can put them under the nebulous banner of ‘instrumental rock’. But that tells you basically nothing at all. It’s also a little misleading, unfortunately.

Most indie instrumental bands put me to sleep, their songs simply fade into the background of whatever else I’m doing. By the time the album finishes I can’t remember a single thing. But Capillary Action has a different effect: because of their evolving song structures and constant unpredictable genre-hopping, my attention is frequently and forcibly brought back to the music at hand. Just because there are no vocals, doesn’t mean Capillary Action has nothing to say.

“Who are they?”
Well, Capillary Action is really a ‘he’ rather than a ‘they’. Jonathan Pfeffer, a fellow internet zinester and — I am proud to say — my arch-nemesis. Our animosity is unrivaled in the annals of all human history. I will kill him one day. Pfeffer performed and recorded almost all of Fragments by himself, with help from a few friends. The album was recorded in pieces and then those pieces were glued together into the uneven songs and crazy juxtapositions that propel Fragments. But just because the contrasts are extreme and unpredictable doesn’t mean the album isn’t fit together beautifully. The transitions between disparate pieces work brilliantly, almost beyond notice: it’s a rarity when a particular transition feels forced. Despite the rapid changes and unpredictable nature of Fragments, each song develops a full, singular personality with repeated listens. In fact, Capillary Action’s message is clearer and better than most instrumental bands: all music is related and accessible, there are no divisions.

“What’s the best song?”
This is another problem with the reviews. Every single one picks something different. My personal favorite is “A Hundred Pages of Cannot Be Named”, a perfectly catchy piece of Brazilian-influenced pop music, with its lightly tapping rhythms and quickly-plucked guitars. “Mid-Coital Seizure” is an interesting exercise in spazz-punk, complete a jerky keyboard line and twisted, tortured guitars. The song becomes a straight-forward chugging garage riff with spacey, twinkling keyboard runs adding ambience before turning back toward the thrashy destruction of its opening. If the Locust had quieter moments they might sound like this.

My least favorite are “Ticking Ghosts, Pt. 2″ and “Architecture Would Fail”, which indulge in cheesy Iron Maiden riffs that will have most idiotic ironists giving their best faux sign-o-the-beast. “Architecture” in particular stretches out to the seven-minute mark and sounds perfectly suited to vintage ’80s Ozzy. The song also engages in some embarrassing Van Halen tapping at its breathless conclusion. Meaning that it is perfectly suited to be sampled by Lil Jon and the East Side Boyz for their next huge crunk hit. It doesn’t help that the transitions on these metal songs always seem the most forced on the album, and are likely intended to ’shock’ the listener by their sudden appearance. Unfortunately these also seem to be a favorite amongst the zine reviews so far, the internet being a well-known haven for closeted fans of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. “Driving Through Twilight” starts promisingly with a great little alt-country intro picked-out on guitar over some softly humming keyboards. But that’s it, what should be an intro just repeats several times over, and for an album that’s almost too full of ideas this is one song that unfortunately lacks any at all.

“So what genre would you say they are?”
You goddamn … You’re going to make me cry! You didn’t listen a single thing I just said. Alright, that’s it. I’m never reviewing anything ever again.

You win again Pfeffer! You rat bastard! But I’ll be back, oh yes I will!