Xysma

Lotto (Relapse)
by Scott Hefflon

It’s pronounced “Ziss’-muh,” before you ask. I’m reminded of an old Steve Martin joke. He’s explaining to the audience how, unlike many comedians, he doesn’t like to do a lot of dirty material. There could be children in the audience, some people might be offended instead of entertained, or some of your audience might feel excluded, so he leaves out the dirty stuff. And in a moment of lucidity, spotlight shining beauteously upon his wisely whitened head, he says, “It just seems like there’s more…” he pauses to find the right word, “money in doing it this way.” And that’s the joke.

Xysma is a rock band, clear and simple. Opening with a thin-sounding Clutch-popping rhythm, the buried-in-the-mix vocals seem to be singing throatily, but it’s really hard to tell. Wah-wahing guitars loop over the stomping chug, and a meandering indie rock riff keeps strolling in and really pissing me off. Otherwise, “Shortest Route” is a decent song that shoulda been buried near the end rather than introducing the disc. “We Just Came Inside” starts off better with a noisy rock riff, some roaring lyrics, and a kinda Helmetesque mixture of rampage and smooth melodic minimalism. An influence that begins to take shape here, then really manifests itself in the next song, “Do’n’Do,” is vocalist Joanitor’s ability to sound like Ian Astbury, formerly of the Cult. Heavily chorused guitar sweeps, barrel-chested vocals of simple repetitions like, “Down, Down, Going Down, Down” and that sort of thing mix with the pounding drums into one of those songs that is just so fun to drive to. Truthfully, the sauntering from Astbury into Danzigland is effortless, and almost frightening. Lotto is all over the map, mostly in a good way. With dirty, swampy, noisy rock rearing its ugly head as a genre, rather than a bunch of drunken, sloppy hacks who failed Nirvana 101 and need a new producer, Xysma ought to do just fine. Their long-winded jams (similar again to when I grow tired of Clutch) and funkadelic distorto grooves show them to be a band of many talents, but that’s merely a polite way of saying, “super, next song please.” Fans of the rich, loud, heavy grooves of COC, Down, Clutch, Helmet, and the like ought to check into Xysma.