The world the Six-Fing Thing inhabits is a strange one. Blue civilizations are born and collapse in a splash of technicolor sound, gypsy caravans tinker with sputtering Moog synthesizers as they wind through mountain passes. And the legion of chimps previously hammering at typewriters in attempt to replace the works of Shakespeare are now fiddling with pneumatic musical devices of unknown origin to rewrite Stravinski.
Six-Fing Thing, the musical alter ego of visual artist James Cobb, creates sprawling, sometimes jagged, soundscapes that defy easy catagorization. A single piece can move between the angularity of a lost Captain Beefheart track, a Lamonte Young-style drone and into naturalistic ambient sounds before culminating in a horn-driven squall.
Combining composition, improvisation and aural cut-and-paste Six-Fing Thing navigates between musical poles set in a shifting world that cannot physically exist but should.