. Wolf Eyes Burned Mind Sub Pop ock music is not what it used to be. Long ago, it spawned numerous little variations on itself, which produced variations of their own, so on and so forth. With the vast genre now in its golden years, it may seem musicians have exhausted all possibilities, traveled every road to its end and mashed together as many subgenres and outside influences as possible without becoming too horribly obnoxious. Obviously, drastic measures are necessary to maintain originality, and completely unorthodox methods are certainly welcome and worthy of praise. But did it really have to come to this?       The members of Wolf Eyes have decided to discard everything they ever knew about music and rebuild the definition of aural art from the ground up. Like Brancusi's Bird in Space, this album initially seems to do little more than test the boundaries of what can be considered "art." It's the musical equivalent of that slick, vertical stone swoosh of pure pretension. However, while there is something appealing about the form of Brancusi's piece, Wolf Eyes is simply frustrating.       But that's what they want. They're here to assault your ears, and their song titles prove it. "Stabbed in the Face" sounds quite a bit like what its title suggests, and after a minute of its whirring, screeching, screaming and scraping, a non-metaphorical stab actually begins to seem preferable.       "Stabbed…," which is track two on the album, marks the first appearance of rhythm, something that doesn't return until four songs into the disc on "Reaper's Gong." After that, steady rhythm doesn't show up again until five songs later on the title track. Indeed, aside from those occurrences, Burned Mind feels most like a haunted house-ready collection of creepy Halloween sound effects, the kind of thing you'd expect to hear playing on your neighbor's front porch for all of the trick-or-treaters. Except that, of course, racket like this could very likely traumatize the poor youngsters.       The album can essentially be divided into two types of songs: the freeform, arrhythmic, atonal noise mixtures and the rhythmic (in the loosest sense) songs with Nathan Young's demonic shrieking. The former largely, although not entirely, forego guitars in favor of distorted tape noise, found (and destroyed) sounds, incessantly buzzing electronics and all manner of disturbing clatter, all of which is thrown into place in a seemingly haphazard way. The latter share the characteristics of the former, but they add some sort of rhythmic element (a recurring bass stomp, an electronic noise with evenly spaced repetitions) and tend to attack more viciously. "Reaper's Gong," for instance, starts with a menacing stomp amid hissing electronics and expands to include a heavily-fuzzed, two-chord guitar line and surprisingly beat-conscious screaming. Noises are added continuously, and by the end of four minutes, carefully planned chaos is everywhere.       Perhaps, as has been stated, Burned Mind follows in the anarchic tradition of Throbbing Gristle, but even the industrial noise progenitors look like pretty little ponies by comparison. This disc most readily evokes the idea of electrical appliances in a bathtub, the feeling of being eaten slowly by some hideous creature, the atmosphere of a lightless, jagged, torturous underworld.       Is Wolf Eyes for everyone? Certainly not. Should the band's music be considered art? Probably so. The world Wolf Eyes builds on Burned Mind is a frightening place at first, but stick around long enough and you might find yourself almost getting used to the hellish, unnerving atmosphere. It's strange, but there's something slightly comforting within all the discomfort. Still, I don't expect you'll want to stay for very long. -Chris Skillern