Rörhät / Rorhat

After testing established musical thresholds with two critically lauded EPs, Germany's Volt captured the art of calculated chaos on their 2006 full-length Rorhat. The majority of these improbably funky alien transmissions — "Kreutz," "Griffel," "Frommbug," "Stativ" — find the trio conducting spastic experiments in new millennium no wave and noise rock. All of them being more energetic and danceable (if you can dance like you're having a seizure, that is) than Swans or Unsane, yet not quite howl-at-the-moon wacko à la the Jesus Lizard (just close enough to see their house from here). San Francisco's Totimoshi make for a good, contemporaneous parallel as well, thanks to the screeched, nonsensical vocal exclamations, disciplined guitar crunch, and searing dissonant waves conjured up by Volt frontman Andre. So too are New York's seminal Helmet given the equally unpredictable, but mechanically precise rhythm section laid down by bassist Nico and drummer Boris, which punctuates Volt's inspired mega-grooves with clinical perfection. In due time, the trio arrives at an even more eclectic songwriting triptych made up of the quasi-sludge, stream-of-conscience ramblings of "Hospital in Wales," the industrial-lite bridge "Praecrox," and the manic outburst of "Dr. Crox Medua"; then, for the grand, warped finale, they devolve into a relatively sparse, 13-minute ambient-drone odyssey named after the group. This brings the album's entire duration to just under 36 minutes, which may be a little short by most long-playing standards, but rather fits the bill here, if one is to measure value-for-money by Rorhat's deep reserves of unconventionality and daring creativity.