FAT WORM OF ERROR | Theater Critic's Choice | Chicago Reader

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FAT WORM OF ERROR

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This Massachusetts band is a stumbling, mush-mouthed, amoeboid creature out of a childhood nightmare, devouring everything in the fridge. And once it's full, it carefully barfs it all up, one thoughtful convulsion at a time: baby animal growls, boingy guitar chatter, seasick feedback, zizzing bass, tongue-choked hyperventilation, and janky clanking percussion that sounds more like an upended kitchen drawer than a drumbeat. Acidic squirts and sharp clicks add unidentifiable blots of color to the noisy bellyaching, which seems to be a sort of tribal language the five members have evolved to communicate among themselves. They're often costumed, most remarkably in a pair of enormous red-and-orange fabric tubes topped with a forked tongue, an outfit that looks like sea-floor creatures impersonating disembodied legs. Their show is less an overwhelming explosion than a creaky, dribbly mess, but if they tightened the screws they'd probably just end up squeezing out all the good parts. Lovely Little Girls, Youth of the Beast, and Animal Law open. a 8 PM, Enemy, 1550 N. Milwaukee, third floor, 312-493-3657, $5 suggested donation. A --Liz Armstrong

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