The sonic scions of Crash Worship and Arab on Radar, Arkansas's Church of the Snake eludes easy classification. Heavily rhythmic noise rock characterizes one strain of the band's sound, while another is marked by hypnotic, psychedelic drones, conceived in the shadowy recesses of a witch doctor's visionary travels among his ancestral spirits. Sometimes the music coming off the stage sounds like it's coming from some twilight universe that Robert W. Chambers dared only hint at in The King in Yellow. Make no mistake: There is something thrillingly sinister and compellingly menacing about this band's music and its shows. Go, if you dare, and risk succumbing to Church of the Snake's venom.