TronAteMyBaby, a musical project (associated with the Sleepy Pie-Skulls art collective) that consists of Phillip Maloney, Cameron Chiles, Chris Watts, Josh Hellvig, Ben Spencer, Mike Kluge, Todd Bolden and Morton, describes itself as “a theatrical rock project that leads the audience through several stages of human emotion, focusing more heavily on fits of madness and frustration.” To break it down less abstractly, particularly through their recording Solid Gold Go-Cart, TronAteMyBaby makes squeaks, noises and commentary—and it all sounds like it’s coming from the weird apartment down the hall.
Listening to these 14 tracks of God-knows-what is the equivalent of being high in a dorm when you’re 19 and watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force in your bed at 3 a.m. Or listening to Ween. It’s pretty funny static brain fuzz, starting with “When I Grows Up,” which sounds like that clip from South Park of a young, timid Terrance and Phillip doing their very first act, singing, “Everybody clap your hands.”
There’s a lot of Johnny Mo talking in the background, and the production—maybe intentionally?—sounds as if you were listening through a wall. There is what sounds like dogs barking (“Slay Ride”), twinkling sound effects, cackling, partying like things are on sale for $19.99, stuff going haywire, unsettling klezmer (“Sly Cry”) and what I guess I’ll call drug jazz, all of which do a great job of creeping me out and making me laugh.
There are also short narratives, like “Benny”:
His name was Benny. Benny had a twin brother named Lenny. Benny was five-foot-four and weighed 172 pounds with his boots on. Benny graduated from Hampshire Unit School in 1984 and walked straight into Huntington Components to stand in front of an automated assembly line. He stands there to this day. He has declared bankruptcy twice. Not for matters of scamming the system, mind you, but rather for reasons of ignorance. He was ignorant of the economic system of the country in which he lived, he was too ignorant to grasp the odds of winning the lottery, and he was ignorant to the reality of how far his weekly paycheck can stretch when he eats at The Handlebar twice daily. He wakes up each morning at 4 a.m., puts on his boots and walks straight into The Handlebar. He sits in the same barstool he sat at since 1984, and he orders the same breakfast he always orders . . .
I love how there’s so much to Solid Gold Go-Cart; it’s busy and yet it’s sleepy sounding, like it’s pushing 2 a.m., everybody’s already left the venue, but the talent booker said “sure” to a fifth band. The sounds of TronAteMyBaby fall somewhere between the spazzy late-night practice of a ramshackle marching band/variety show and a creepy soundtrack to a low-budget ’70s movie like Evil Dead. One part unsettling, two parts humorous—no, wait, one part humorous, two parts creepy . . . eh, either way, it was good.
