Steeped in the spirit of ’60s psychedelia and fuzzed-out acid trips, Tetrix’s blend of cheap analog synths, meandering melodies and arcade blasts invokes nostalgia for the great video game soundtracks of the ’80s. The influence of ’80s pop music–albeit completely skewed to the experimental side–is just as obvious. Tetrix 7 also journeys into the realms of rap, punk and thrash, all the while maintaining airy synth backdrops and Casio beats mixed with real drum-kit sounds.
Perhaps the most confusing part of Tetrix is the vocals, which alternate between amateur rap, hippy-esque sing-talking, high-pitched yelling and frail melodies, the latter being the only style worthy of attention. These sentimental vocal cries are what saves Tetrix 7 from being completely lost in a mess of obscure, erratic bits of songs that never quite amount to anything. Flashes of brilliance definitely appear, but they are frustratingly brief. The hidden track after the last song is one of the greatest, mixing bubbly synth bleeps and blips with some biting lyrics: “Art against war now/ hit the fucking floor now.” Most of the time, Tetrix sounds like your little brother wanking on the $20 keyboard he got at Radio Shack, but if you listen carefully, he might just blow your mind.