Boredoms | Theater Critic's Choice | Chicago Reader

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BOREDOMS

If the Boredoms' early records were the musical equivalent of attention deficit disorder, their current Super æ (Birdman) could be the result of a semisuccessful course of Ritalin. While they still cherish the jump cut--the title track, for instance, cobbles together churchy organ drones, chanted vocals, a kind of ritualistic voice-and-percussion passage, a bombastic two-chord psychedelic guitar "intro," and alternatingly thrashing and hydroplaning post-Butthole Surfers mayhem--more often than not on Super æ they develop at least one element over the long haul. "Super Coming" is a shape-shifting opus constructed around a steady vocal line that sounds like something the Fugs might have sung; "Super Going" is an enthralling 12-minute epic that embroiders a seesawing two-chord pattern with a phalanx of guitar effects and euphoric vocal bits that get repeated, dissected, and reconstituted through more electronic trickery. Occasionally there's a dynamic leap--everything but the vocals drops out, or a sudden tape edit revamps the rhythm--but for the most part the Boredoms manage to sustain each concept all the way through. The new subtlety may seem hard to reconcile with their rampaging-bulldozer live approach (they're touring with three drummers). But really, the Boredoms are still using the same raw materials--the screaming, the grunting, the quasi-operatic wailing, the sludgy bass, the herky-jerky rhythms, the squalls of pure noise. They've just learned to build bigger things out of them. Saturday, 10 PM, Metro, 3730 N. Clark; 773-549-0203. PETER MARGASAK

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