The Evens Thai aubergine curry

The thuds of the sharpened blade slicing it's way through the gathering aubergine slowly becomes submerged by the driving sounds of the Evens - the syncopated mesh which now drowns the entirity of the kitchen. Ian Mackaye cries a brash holla over the release of his pent-up, jagged guitar lines, all the while fragments of food are roughly tossed into the air as the slashes of the knife are more frequent and heavy. Amy Farina's harmony rides gently in and a period of calm takes hold of the room. A rich spectrum of colour clings on desperately to the sides of the container wall, the machine is sleeping. Flip over to one side of the aubergine only to flip it over once more, then season. Ian repeats that non of the minor parts are pointless, every action has it's reason. As the last of the aubergine is taken from off of the heat the drums pick back up and that wave of energy is once again restored. The complex rhythms and guitar hooks combine in creating a repetitive pattern which mirrors each culinary step, this familiarity brings with it a re-assurance, a security net though it's haunting all the same. The Heaps of food which once harried the empty space of the table have now disappeared leaving behind a clean surface and a sweet smell. Sounds bubble their way to the surface, they ring and ride through the rafts of coconut milk, stock and white wine which simmer in the pan below until, finally, you are left with an honest conclusion.