Now for something completely different.....a band from late '80's Boston who played ski's. Yup you read that right. Ski's. By stringing piano wire to the ski and mic-ing it up they managed to produce music from their sports implements coming up with a wholly unusual sound that sounds rather electronic in a funny kinda way.
8/10 Laurie Staff review, 19 November 2014
In Norman Records’ endless quest to find the most ridiculous record ever released, never has it been closer to being complete than with the Ski-A-Delics. Presumably these US experimentalists were dissatisfied by the ski’s main function and, in true genius fashion, decided to strap some pickups to them instead. Taken at face value, you assume the worst - they’re skis for fook sake! - but Ski-A-Delics manage to extract some pretty cohesive stuff from the fibreglass flying sticks.
Musically, it sits halfway between broken clocks and a modern chamber orchestra. Remember those weird plinks during Tom Waits’ ‘Clap Hands’? It’s effectively a whole album of that, but drifting from rhythmic cycles towards avant-noodle, which I would describe as being fully explored on side 2, a side full of clicks, scratches and bent bowed notes. You can hear their background in academic composition, and it comes as no surprise that 2 of them were students of the great Alvin Lucier, that guy that hooked his brain up to a synth back in the day. That wasn’t the Ski-A-Delics’ vibe, so instead they opted for a more ensemble approach to (somewhat ironically) inject a more human feel into his teachings. The group chemistry really shows through on the first side and the later moments of side 2, each whack bursting with imperfections that gels the layers into a nice dissonant whole.
Who’d have thought that skis were so versatile. I guess its not that surprising in a world where you can make music from anything, even sex mics. In a glorious statement of anti-consumerist repurposing, the Ski-A-Delics batter out their own theory of music regardless of the dodgy stares from the passers by. Oi mate, those twats are playing some skis.
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