Fake Snake: I'm Drawn To That Insane Kind of Sound
Screeches cycle through the drone and reverberate off the cratered concrete walls of [venue name redacted] as Fake Snake frantically claws through their set. We're out among the dilapidated shitholes of Phoenix's industrial parks, inside this warehouse shed doubling as crashpad and venue for several underground acts. Here, the Phoenix post-industrial trio fits in nicely with a small but entranced collective of weirdos who flock to this kind of noxious, somehow rhythmic experimental noise. The drilling and the pounding and the screaming is far more titillating than agitating once you get it in the right context - and a garage down the street from a mechanic's office gives everything just the right echo.
Promo Fake Snake
Hard to justify to an audience of twenty-something hipsters used to Phantogram clones, too dainty to mosh and too unversed in primal rage. But in its own way, the aggression is kind of beautiful.
Fake Snake have been called the "white Deathgrips," maybe because the band's O.S. D'vil operates a turntable, scratching out samples from obscure speedcore and noise bands from the '90s while drummer Scott Mead, wearing a deathly Halloween mask, thrashes at a drum kit. Lead vocalist David Turner, who flails about while growling into his battered microphone, describes his band as "warm and menacing," but there's far more menace than warmth. Turner filters his screams through a beat-up old DOD FX pedal held together with duct tape that he scored at a thrift store. As you can imagine, the sounds he squelches out are fucking nuts.
"That just insane kind of sound, I'm drawn to it. I guess it's challenging to the audience, too, at times," Turner says. "I'll play that kind of shit, but still keep a song structure and not have it be complete noise... there's shit underneath all the shit you hear on the track, there's still song structure, there's still pop elements, and things like that seep through, even though we don't really want people to know that, but it's just gonna happen."
The grimy reverbs of fax machine dialups pulled through electrical teeth isn't all Turner is familiar with. He comes from a guitar background and has found himself in other various projects, including playing keyboards in synth-pop bands. He does all åthe mastering work himself, starting Fake Snake two years ago as a recording side-project kicked around in Ableton and Logic Pro.