Heavy and melodic, damning and redeeming, abrasive and
beautiful...such dichotomies does Giant Squid mold from a dense brick
of clay. Sculpting chiaroscuro from a monolith of sound upon solid
guitar foundation provided by Bryan Beeson and Cory Tozer, Aaron
Gregory adds to the guitar mix and punishes the microphone--mostly
with a growling yell, but at times more melodic--backed by the
occasional, awesome screams of Jackie Perez Gratz--I mean wonderful,
although my inclination draws more to the haunting impression wafting
from her wicked white electric cello. Behind it all I see Chris Lyman
having a grand old time pounding on his drum kit.
The band is not superheavy but still quite forceful,good rock. I
heard shades of Pelican, Godspeed! You Black Emperor, Black Sabbath,
and in one relatively calm interlude, Tom Waits. The next-to-last
song of the set featured a climax of marching crescendo on the drums
that was quite fun, standing out from the general feeling of hiking
through a dark morass. They are one of the most intent bands I've
seen, concentrating, eyes closed, practically meditating. Intangible
emotion is still projected but rarely shown on their studious faces. It was Giant Squid's first show in Chicago, in a little unassuming
Czech bar with checkerboard floor on the northwest side, and the turnout was deservedly good.
Review and photos by Evan Tyler
Listen to our interviews with Aaron Gregory of Giant Squid
Heavy and melodic, damning and redeeming, abrasive and
beautiful...such dichotomies does Giant Squid mold from a dense brick
of clay. Sculpting 
chiaroscuro from a monolith of sound upon solid
guitar foundation provided by Bryan Beeson and Cory Tozer, Aaron
Gregory adds to the guitar mix and punishes the microphone--mostly
with a growling yell, but at times more melodic--backed by the
occasional, awesome screams of Jackie Perez Gratz--I mean wonderful,
although my inclination draws more to the haunting impression wafting
from her wicked white electric cello. Behind it all I see Chris 
Lyman
having a grand old time pounding on his drum kit.
and in one relatively calm interlude, Tom Waits. The next-to-last
song of the set featured a climax of marching crescendo on the drums
that was quite fun, standing out from the general feeling of hiking
through a dark morass. They are one of the most intent bands I've
seen, concentrating, eyes closed, practically meditating. Intangible
emotion is still projected but rarely shown on their studious faces. It was Giant Squid's first show in Chicago, in a little unassuming
Czech bar with checkerboard floor on the northwest side, and the turnout was deservedly good.
