The Spongehead belonged to New York�s �progressive� avant-garde. Formed in 1985 in Brooklyn as a guitar trio (Doug Henderson), saxophone (his brother Dave), and drums (Mark Kirby), Spongehead already had a background in jazz and avant-garde music (the Henderson brothers had played with Eugene Chadbourne).

Potted Meat Spread (Shimmy Disc, 1989) offers a fusion of blues, funk and jazz performed in a way that is simply an hardcore and industrial version of old Pere Ubu. Maybe and the instrumental Amerikka stand out among the cluster of surreal songs. Dave Henderson�s tenor saxophone acts as a bass and gives the songs a mournful, depressed tone, which is no coincidence as they recall Morphine.

Legitimate Beef (Community 3, 1990) is played in a style that is both intense and fragmented, almost always serving erudite digressions (Corpse Of A Nation, and especially Plumber's Lament). In keeping with New York�s rock avant-garde tradition, the harmonies are also torn apart by an acidic sense of humor (The New Amerikka could be by the Fugs). Their strength lies in rhythmic patterns, always slightly deranged, onto which more or less improvised and disjointed passages are grafted. I See You is a mix of Black Sabbath and Pere Ubu, with the saxophone, after blaring uselessly in the chaos, suddenly dragging the drums into an irresistible charge. Zombie Move, Fuck You and the very Spongehead Theme live more on these rhythmic �grotesques� than on the leader�s pretentious declamations or the saxophone�s amateurish ideas.

Curb Your Dogma (Triple X, 1993) leaves behind the youthful sarcasm of those records and instead focuses on the musical core. The harmonies are more compact and the lyrics more existential (�You can shoot yourself only so many times before you have to cut the damn thing off� is their best slogan). Love It Or Leave It and Lies are expressionist psychodramas, not music-hall numbers. Even their absurdist pantomimes rely on much more solid sonic frameworks: Metal Jesus Fucker launches into a demonic pow-wow of bass roars in the style of Cream and guitar blasts worthy of the saxophone, while the instrumental Pair O' Dimes contemplates surf music through the eyes of a postmodern philosopher.
Dave Henderson discovered a way of playing the saxophone (melodic, distorted, bass-like) that is equivalent to a bladed assault, and in tracks like Melting and Chernobyl it elevates the instrument to the role of prima donna, a rarity in rock music. His brother complements him by using guitar dissonances in a way only Arto Lindsay had dared in a rock trio. When the combustion works, the explosion has few equals: the incendiary scores of Gunfire are as thrilling as the final jamming of The End. The epitome of the album and of their style is perhaps Nothing, a ragged rhythm and blues piece (recalling both Captain Beefheart and Jimi Hendrix and Tom Waits) with jazz improvisational sections. Their strength is, simply, genius.

As anticipated by the single Brainwash, for Infinite Baffle (Triple X, 1996) the group abandoned experimental ambitions and focused on a more monolithic saloon sound. Doug Henderson realizes he is one of the most brutal guitarists around, and the spectacular growth of the rhythm section of Mark Kirby (drums) and David Henderson (bass) allows him to roam through blues and country with the attitude of a desperado hardened by excess. Blending ZZ Top and Butthole Surfers, he delivers the nasty boogie of Dog Day. By intensifying the catastrophic rhythm, he reaches the funky shocks of Feelgood and Victim. By digging into depression, he crafts the long, slow blues of 1919. All of this unfolds in a moral landscape that increasingly resembles a merciless battlefield.