God’s Teeth and The Interstellar Tropics isn’t a name that runs off the tongue easily. The same can be said for their music. Instead of gliding out of your speakers or headphones it comes forth ungainly, with jerks and spasms. This of course is to its benefit. If it was smooth and slick it wouldn’t be God’s Teeth and The Interstellar Tropics, would it?
The music is abrasive and awkward. It’s full of tonal juxtapositions and melodies. At first sounds out of sorted with itself and idiosyncratic, but after a few minutes you realise that this is far from the truth. Under all the off-centre layers of ad-hoc rhythm you find purpose and regimented melodies. Granted it doesn’t have a polished sheen, but it’s not meant to. It’s meant to sound unorthodox from the skitter drumming, to its wailing guitars and clock chimes. Everything is designed to put your on edge, while trying to make you feel comfortable. In the sequence where it sounds like a ruler is being thwocked on a table there is a very catchy melody playing just below it. This technique peppers the album, and adds to its charm.
What GTatIT have done is make black and white psychedelic drone. This might sound like a slight, but I promise it is not. It is in fact high praise. Instead of using every instrument they could get their hands on GTatIT have used a few, but inter woven them to create something that is as terrifying as it is delightful. What they’ve done is similar to 1950’s B-Movies. They trick us into thining they’re in colour. I’ve watch Plan 9 and Quatermass and the Pit so many times that I could tell you what colour certain characters of the film are. The same is true for Kim Deitch’s. I would swear that Smilin’ Ed was in colour as it’s so vivid and exciting, but alas its in black and white. The same is true for GTatIT. And that’s the greatest trick.