Soul Woman

Aaron Warren and Bjorn Copeland have been playing music together since 1999: nineyears as Flaccid Mojo and twenty-six years as Black Dice. This partnership has been aramble, a supply run through the wasted landscape of contemporary music. Stacking upthe dumb, the muffled, and the used-up, the pair consistently create unbalanced,breathtaking mutant constructions. The latest example is Loose Jacks, Flaccid Mojo'ssecond full-length. Made from free phone apps, fractured youtube videos, andcracked-screen electronics-the scorched and crumpled sediment of thestreaming-industrial complex-Loose Jacks is the wide, hysterical grin of finding treasurein the end days.Flaccid Mojo's songs are built for live performance, with a modular arsenal of rhythms,stabs, and payoffs all at the ready. It's their way of centering the physical; of ensuring thebodily dictates of each song's composition reassert these commands on everyone in theaudience. The satisfaction of a loop that runs until it's in your blood, the basslinesculpted into a shove, the snare hit as sharp as a stranger's elbow. You can feel like aghost passing through some other band's record, but Loose Jacks is all brick wall,weighted blanket, strong hands launching you atop a pile of bodies. It's a liberatory,unspiritual experience. A carnal one.As with their debut LP, Flaccid Mojo (released 2022 by Castle Face), Loose Jacks wasrecorded by Chris Coady, whose been at Black Dice shows since the nineties. It's goodto work with people who get it, who aren't going to argue about key or "the grid."Similarly, Loose Jacks was mastered by Sarah Register, whose band Talk Normal shareda wall with the Black Dice practice space.