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Live, Big Nurse's distinction between improv and composition is virtually indiscernible. Skeletal arrangements swell, twist and gnarl unnaturally, delivering masterful punishment to anyone brave enough to endure it. The nature of this beast is certainly an inconsistent one, but a Big Nurse show promises one thing without reservation—it'll be fucking loud.
So it's fitting that the name of the band's DIY-run label is High Density Headache. What's surprising is that it isn't merely a vanity imprint—the label has become more like a collective for like-minded noisemakers in Nashville and Murfreesboro. Shunned from many of the area's traditional venues, Big Nurse and their label of misfits have helped form the bedrock of the current incarnation of the underground house-show circuit. (Full disclosure: One of my bands released a cassette tape on the HDH imprint two years ago.)Though members of Big Nurse have remained active in dozens of projects (High on Life, Bumblebeast, Bad Friend, Witch Detectives, et al.), the band has been on extended hiatus. Two years ago, guitarist/tape manipulator Ryan King and saxophonist Rhea Decaro relocated to Oakland, Calif. But even as the band remained inactive locally, Big Nurse released the Temporarily Unavailable LP last summer. Comprised of three long, untitled tracks of edited and manipulated rehearsal tapes and recordings from their 2006 tour, the LP demonstrates a restraint not always apparent in the band's previous releases. The result is one of the finest pieces of noise rock associated with Nashville.
Opening with a cacophony of guitar destruction, Temporarily Unavailable immediately illuminates the difference between Big Nurse live and Big Nurse on wax: Rather than rupture ear drums, on record, the band is instantly more atmospheric and nuanced. King's four-track plays a prominent role on the second song, which collapses in on itself in a lo-fi deconstruction that barely resembles the concert from which the recording was produced. But the single track that makes up side two is the record's coup de grâce. It begins with a guitar line that best approximates what might be a Big Nurse hook, utilizing the band's porous membership to its fullest potential. Then the seven people credited on the LP plow through an extended Acid Mother's Temple-inspired jam session that flirts with complete chaos. Since Big Nurse's reputation has always been that of a band who cranks everything to 11, the dynamics on display are a welcome surprise and expose the layers that often get lost in the wreckage.
After this summer's tour, which finds the band returning to Nashville for their first local show in two years, Big Nurse will officially begin their relocation to Oakland. Though the core of Big Nurse will no longer reside in Music City, guitarist and occasional drummer John Adams—who won't be making the move out West—says the band will maintain satellite members here in Nashville. Given that and the ever-growing High Density Headache catalog, Big Nurse's shadow will likely loom large over Nashville's noise scene for quite a while to come.