Aitis Band
IV
Ernest Jenning Record Co.
A monotone Melina Ausikaitis is getting very sleepy in “Apt Pupil,” first up on the roll call for the mesmerizing IV, the likely truant making a droning, hypnotic entrance. Lazily, she repeats, “I can’t keep my eyes open,” after distractedly uttering, “We thought dead ends were scary,” while staring at a high school across the street, with its “tennis balls and running track.” That empty feeling she must be experiencing is mutual, and it is creepy.
Drifting off to the sounds of falling stars and nervy skitter, she’s lost interest in staying awake, the effect of slow, tribal percussion and throbbing bass too narcotic to resist. Whatever lesson is imparted by the unsettling “Apt Pupil,” and it’s not clear there is one, it’s best not to sleep on Aitis Band, a puzzling electronic trio of not-so-merry, darkwave pranksters formed in 2019 of ex-Joan of Arc members Ausikaitis and Bobby Burg, plus visual artist/musician Ray Borchers.
Danger lurks around every corner of IV, produced by Joan of Arc’s Nate Kinsella, with a wicked grin, but so does sarcasm and a twisted sense of humor, all of it walking through underground clubs as if hunting prey, parting seas of writhing bodies, plotting the ruin of anyone getting their kicks with risky behaviors. Reliable or not, our narrator, Ausikaitis, gives her evocative reports in a rather disturbing, matter-of-fact fashion. The stories are intriguing, to say the least.
Laughing under its cool, airy breath, amused at the folly of youthful indiscretions, IV is a darkly mischievous blend of synths and keyboards and other dramatic elements, including Burg’s seductive bass lines and the unusual set-up employed by Ausikaitis, who plays stringless guitar and sings — her eerie deadpan vocal delivery a signature feature — hooked up to a contact mic and EarthQuaker device pedals. What comes out is a gripping, insidious aural nightmare that’s difficult to shake. And it’s as entertaining as any psychological thriller.
When the cold, atmospheric gallop “The Thirteenth” gathers momentum, a maniacal cackle from Ausikaitis is audible, cutting through a series of synth swooshes and swoops, but it’s drowned in a washing slipstream. Even more menacing, the pounding, enveloping closer “Trouble Tonight IV” is a ravishing, cinematic epic of swirling murk and zappy bolts summoning a sandstorm of mystery and meteorological power. Sexual tension grips the sensual, death disco swirl of “He’s Great” and the sly, danceable groove of “Dan,” as “Pity a Killer” is disarmingly sweet and scary. The same could be said of the fluid and brooding IV, where an expansive “Screenplay” is swallowed by whirling madness. Oh, the horror.
