Too frequently, experimental music has automatically fallen under the generic label of “new” or “different”. Perhaps what is needed is a return to primitive principles, a devolution of sorts. 3:33 is a group that looks to do just that. Evolving from the groundwork of Musique Concrete composers like Pierre Shaeffer and John Cage, their music is tense and fiercely experiential; a roller coaster ride through moody beats, haunting jangles, and shrieks that will disquiet the soul. Their sounds are otherworldly, guttural, deeply primal, and sometimes mad; 3:33 masterfully brings this motley of noises into communion, and the listener is transported into a world of dark imaginings. Whether entrancing the listener with bone rocking percussion or sending shivers down the spine, the music spins itself seamlessly together into a masterpiece of purposeful chaos. Spinning wild tales, opening trap doors, and shedding light into dark recesses of the soul, the soundscape ultimately leaves the listener with a sense of unnamable disquietude.
3:33 shrouds its identity in mystery, letting the music speak for itself. 3:33 will introduce the world to a new style of music altogether, pushing the boundaries of experimentation by sending their audience into an abyss of musical discord.