This Is My Condition

It's the damnedest thing, This Is My Condition.

Just one guy, Craig Comstock, an unassuming, 5-foot-something who looks more like he might lay out your Web site than rock your ass superhuge-solo-style, a shiny-domed smiler banging out his are-you-shitting-me? racket on drums and a guitar he lays over the kit.

He beats out a riff with the sticks, smashes a pedal to capture it with the sampler jacked into the ax, and then plays it back, nodding. Then the riff blasts out again, then again, looped live, and Comstock's galloping along after it, hammering at his drums, power-chording on top of his own power chords, the whole shebang rhythmic and wild, a danceable chaos, chunky and ferocious and kind of avant-garde but not so much that it isn't fun.

Sometimes he slows down, takes the sticks and works the frets like a lap steel, goosing toothy jags of feedback.

The song crashes to a climax. He looks up, a little bleary, and mutters: "This is my condition."

Then comes the next, the same kind of stuff but different enough to keep the kids jumping, songs that sound like rock itself being gutted open and pinned to a dissecting tray so we can see what surprises pulse inside it.

It's not a one-man band. It's a one-man army.

Comstock, the bass man in local indie pop outfit Blue Leaves, has been at his very, very solo act for two years, since a three-piece band he'd been writing for fell through. Inspired by turntablism — an early incarnation of Condition involved a drum machine and beat-juggling Stravinsky — and what he calls "noisy freak-out stuff," he gradually developed the current setup's loops-drums-guitar aesthetic.

"It limits me," he says. "But I like finding musical solutions within those limitations."

He's musically restless and quite ambitious: two Condition shows happen this week, and also in the works are a CD, a performance this summer at Atlanta's Freedumb festival and a string quartet. "It's a little crazy," he admits. "I just want to keep making music that's new and inspires people."

He pauses and takes a breath before he continues.

"Music that inspires people to make crazier music that will inspire me."

All together now: That's his condition. - The Pitch Kansas City

Craig Comstock looks normal enough -- a bald guy wearing shorts and sneaker who's cheerful and approachable. But when he sits down behind his trap set -- a gnarled, ancient guitar laid across it and a microphone swung around the high-hat -- a wild bear claws its way into Comstock, and he becomes This Is My Condition. And what's his condition? Deeply disturbed and utterly entrancing. Screaming and battering out expansive punk beats, he prods the close-gathered crowd into motion before stretching out an arm to coax sounds from the guitar with a drumstick, thrusting and sawing at the strings in polyrhythmic time with the rest of his body, which still works the drums. The result is somewhere between Howlin' Wolf and Beefheart, with a strident dose of noise-rock amphetamines tossed in to electrify the experience. And for that, he deserves a one-man spot alongside the area's most entertaining bands. - The Pitch Kansas City

This Is My Condition We're sick of people talking about multitasking — as if surfing the Internet while talking on the phone warrants praise. This Is My Condition's sole member, Craig Comstock, would take all of these people to task; there is no word for his brand of busy. Strapping a guitar to his drum kit and inching in on the mic, he uses his whole body to create intense, speed-driven metal reminiscent of bands like Hella (except, holy shit, it is just one guy!). His off-the-chart energy routinely pulls people away from the bar to stare in amazement, then gets them to rock out and dance. www.thisismycondition.com - The Pitch Kansas City