Before describing Schrasj's music, one must play a round of the name game. If you didn't catch on after the band's 1997 debut album, don't worry you can do it. Simply take the first half of "school" and the last half of "garage" and, well, you know. Like their name, Schrasj's music is not easily pronounced. This Houston based trio has weathered a four year existence that has included the loss of three guitarists, breakups, marriages, divorces and a house fire, so it should come as no surprise that Schrasj make music ladeled thick with the air of escapism, of crawling deep within the impulse of musicality, of detachment from the mundane realities of existence. Schrasj use loose song structures, ambient guitars, hypnotic bass lines and fragmented vocals to make music that is the soundtrack to travel without destination. Like when you get in the car and it's not about where you're going, it's about the excitement of uncertainty; it's about the drive. - © 1999 Fanatic Promotion

Describing Schrasj is easy -- just reel off a list of words like gentle, simple, delicate, melodic, shy, mellow, understated or sedate. But Schrasj is more than a string of disjointed adjectives. Combine the mostly-unobtrusive drone-and-hum-and-blat of organs and 303s, gorgeously unhurried guitar melodies, bass work reminiscent of early New Order and a self-effacing boy-girl vocal combo, and the result is something pretty transcendent. This optimization of aesthetics is particularly obvious on "The Birge", in which Terri Loewenthal's breathy vocals skim the top of a tightly-meshed guitar-bass assault, while drums veer unexpectedly from percolating subtlety to pistol-shot intensity. The last forty seconds of the song are one of the most beautiful pop moments I've enjoyed in ages, but there are plenty of additional epiphanies elsewhere on the disc. The sprawling "Connect", for instance, is a womblike creation of muted guitars, electronic noises, ambient sounds and incisive, sometimes mechanical beats -- over nearly eight minutes, it goes through constant, fascinating changes in rhythm and melody. Schrasj also scores points for being smart enough to vary their song tempos rather than remaining constant; this, plus thoughtful track sequencing, helps f avoid the "one track sounds exactly like the next" pitfall. If you enjoy Luna or perhaps Aerial M, and if you appreciated the direction taken by Yo La Tengo's I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One, Schrasj deserves a place in your music collection.

Most musicians would probably tell you that going unnoticed is the death knell. Then again, others not only go unnoticed, but they tend to shoot for it. Richard "Aphex Twin" James is perhaps the foremost purveyor: a soundscapist so tuned-in that when he does make a song that demands your attention, it's horrific enough that you need him to fade out fast just to keep from freaking out.

There are no freakout moments on Schrasj's F, a mix of low-toned guitars, ambient vocals and various MC303 knob twiddlings. In fact, nary a moment on the band's sophomore effort demands your attention. But that doesn't mean you won't catch yourself listening, anyway.

The steely samples and warped rhythm that introduce "Connect" couldn't be sonically further from the elegant guitar repetition they lead into, yet the odd coupling works as well together as an antique end table with a postmodern lamp on top of it. A similar build seamlessly takes "Old Fred Levy" from a dub- inflected spillage of drum loops to a mumbling guitar.

For all the bit parts that accentuate F and bring it close to the cinematic ambience created by Tortoise, Schrasj is a guitar band at its core. Indie chords hold up Terri Loewenthal's melancholic vocals and make "The Birge" sound like it's coming straight from the Unrest and Velocity Girl school of bubblegum heartbreak. And both "Five Parts" and "Weathered as the Wood it Tends" are bolstered by guitar patterns that are as responsible for the dull mood as the vocals.

In the album's liner notes, Schrasj printed the motto "We don't go straight, we go forward." It may be true, but after listening to F, a more fitting motto would be, "We don't go unnoticed, we go unassumed." - Shan Fowler

If you are a fan of Schrasj, like I am, then you are probably just shocked to be reading a review about their latest album, as I am to be writing it. After they had supposedly broken up last year, I had never thought that I would see another Schrasj release, much less a full length album. However, reports of their death have been greatly exaggerated, and luckily we have f to show for it. f features Schrasj's usual laid back style that combines indiepop constructions with a mellow jazz sensibility. What sets Schrasj apart on f, however, is their ability to take chances and succeed at a musical fusion that seems impossible. This is not the same Schrasj that you can hear on their first album, but it seems like the next logical step for a band that has broken up, grown apart, and come back together again. - Brandt Fundak

If you're already missing King Coffey's Trance Syndicate label, schrasj - a trio of ex-rice students - will provide your post-rock fix. On "f" (ojet), all the ingredients that have made Chicago's Tortoise one of the most popular touring bands on the club circuit are here: oddly chorded bass runs mixed way up front, guitar playing that is adamantly anti-virtuosic, and a drummer who calmly slaps and shuffles his way around the beat. These days a lot of this stuff is floating around indie-land, but little of it is as good as this.

Beautiful, sedate pop music along the lines of tortoise... but with a few upbeat electro moments and male/female vocals. A very pleasant find! 5 of 5 stars.

Every so often a band you've never heard of comes along and unexpectedly pays off, reminding you what attracted you to rock in the first place. schrasj is Gram Lebron and Terri Lowenthal, both on guitars, bass, organ, and various electronics, and Alexei Angelides on drums and more electronic gizmos. They're a trio from Houston that plays jazzy, instrumental rock, at times loose and expanding, and then contracting and tight. They have the right idea - they play in a style somewhere between trancey space rock and the post rock of tortoise, but with indie rock's directness and lack of pretense. Some songs have vocals, but they don't last very long, soon getting trampled in the band's rush to play again. Their effortless combinations of shoegazing, sonic youthfulness, noise, and Durutti Column-glistening guitar shimmers make for a great listen.

Wow, this is a surprise. I always thought this band was throwaway indiepop with a pig-tailed girl in a pink cardigan. As usual, I missed the bus. This is useful background music for driving, sex, sleep, reading etc. This record could as likely be on Darla as it could be on Kranky - sleepy grooves that won't lull you to sleep, if you don't let it, and just as pleasant when being ignored as it is full-blast on your car stereo. File next to the first Tortoise LP and the unshitty Sea And Cake stuff.

schrasj presents some well played jazz influenced post-rock. and while post-rock is a lazy and overused term, it is the sound that schrasj makes that I would guess that would fit in a category that includes bands such as tortoise and the sea and cake. okay, with that said lemme say that they keep it a little bit light on lyrics and heavy on atmosphere. laid back and melodic, schrasj also experiment with a variety of sounds and roll it all up into something interesting and most of all enjoyable. (mb)

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