[12.03] Hella opened for Rob Crow at the Ramp in Berkeley last year. I was there—at the side of the room, brow furrowed and eyes bugged out, looking to the showgoers at either side, as if to ask, "Are you seeing this? Did they actually play that?" Their performance had me talking for weeks. Dumbfounded, I was. My evangelistic fervor subsided eventually, when friends began to request politely that I "stop bringing up that damn Hella show, already." But you, humble reader, have yet to be annoyed with my blathering about this duo from Sacramento. So, prepare to be annoyed. Here's what I learned about Hella that night: Their names are Zach Hill and Spencer Seim. Neither sings.

Zach is the speed-metal Fred Astaire. He tosses off tangled drum patterns in triple-time, and makes it look easy. He only has a few drums around him—a floor tom, a kick, a snare and a cracked chunk of metal that functions as a cymbal. Imagine the drummer from Slayer trying to confuse the rest of his bandmates by playing off-kilter, spastic, anti-groove gnarls that buckle and swerve where they least expect. And he's grinning with delight, gracefully swooping around and being all Astaire about it.

This, of course, makes Spencer the inde-prog Ginger Rogers. He's there at every turn, backwards, in high heels and starting on the other foot. His guitar lines cover bass and treble ranges, so he's not only adding notes to this polyrhythmic jumble, but he's playing multiple lines that run in all directions. Zach seems to get the lion's share of attention, but it's Spencer who makes it all work, and makes it all make sense.

Without Spencer's stunning, creative, and precise guitar work, Zach would come across as a precocious metal drummer taking an extended solo that never lands on the one. Which brings us to Total Bugs Bunny on Wild Bass, the new 20-minute Hella EP.

The recordings here don't capture the energy or fun of Hella's live attack. Zach and Spencer recorded and mixed these seven songs by themselves at home, and it sounds like Spencer replaced his guitar tones with a lot of guitar-synth, programming, and loops. On "Koko B. Ware," the programming is a Nintendo soundtrack fed into a blender; "Electric Guitar" has some guitar, thankfully, but it's processed so heavily that it sounds like Frippertronics on hi-speed dubbing. All the digital tone manipulations makes Hella sound less like two humans beating their instruments to death, and more like the product of a computer editing session. Which is unfortunate, since it's so much fun to watch those two dance.

The more electronic approach does yield some interesting sounds. The filter put on the drums for "Post-Ivy League Depression" gives the song a tinge of drum n' bass, and "Magixburg" features a tweaky, percussive bell sound that works well.

Overall, this EP sounds like a collection of home demos, in which Spencer was experimenting with lo-fi guitar-synth sounds. For Hella fans, it's definitely worth seeking it out—particularly for the "enhanced CD" portion, which is Toby Frye's live performance video of the excellent song "Brown Metal." Seeing them tear that song apart on stage reminds you of the manic energy they bring to their playing, and reminds you what fucking badasses they are.

But for those new to Hella and the duo's brand of prog-punk goofiness, it's better to check out the album that "Brown Metal" first appeared on—2002's Hold Your Horse Is. —Kevin Seal