Don Caballero w/ DD/MM/YYYY

Some people start bands because they feel they have something to say. Others see band formation as a guaranteed path to free drinks and unprotected sex. When Damon Che formed instrumental crunch-rockers Don Caballero 15 years ago in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, he had significantly different plans. “The only plan we had at the time was to come up with music we liked,” he says earnestly. “The reason we ended up the way we did was because, in our estimation, [the music] wasn’t ready yet. The opportunities to record kept coming up, and we didn’t want to waste them, even if we didn’t have our craft entirely up to specifications yet.”

Of course, like most things genuine and exemplary, DonCab were greeted by blank stares and confused looks similar to the ones a dog makes eating peanut butter. An early supporter pleaded them to participate in a city battle-of-the-bands contest. When the leader of the judging “panel of experts” heard two minutes of the band’s first single, he lifted the needle and said, “These guys need to go back to Songwriting 101.” Fortunately, Songwriting 101 got brushed aside so DonCab could expand to a quartet, adding guitarist Ian Williams; sign to the Touch And Go label; and head off to Chicago to record their 1993 debut album, For Respect, with Steve Albini at the controls. Many a fanzine writer and alt-weekly-residing tastemaker began describing the band’s complexities and Che’s rhythmic prowess as “math rock,” a term that, to this day, sits uneasy with the drummer. “I think we got to much credit for those particular aspects of the band,” he reflects. “We did have many twists and turns and hard-to-follow time signatures. But we were a much more simplistic mechanism compared to great bands like Breadwinner or Confessor. Much respect to them—I hope they’re not mad about it!”

Earlier this year, while the quartet were recording in producer Al Sutton’s Detroit studio, Rustbelt Recording, they were approached by Relapse to become a part of the label’s roster. The connection is hardly unusual, considering that both band and label have histories of changing listeners’ perceptions of what constitutes “heavy music.” World Class Listening Problem, Don Caballero’s Relapse debut, exceeds the expectations of longtime followers, while also recognizing that calendars only move in one direction. Che’s playing is still equal parts tantrum and tempered, and the ambi-directional musings of Doyle and Ellsworth traffic in everything from engaging atmospherics to full-on guitar choogle. Tracks like “Palm Trees In The Fecking Bahamas” and “And And And He Lowered The Twin Down” are imbued with a refined energy, as well as a greater willingness to explore sonic texture. "We’ve come up with material that tips its hat to everything DonCab has done in the past while still having its own new, distinct voice,” says Che. "There’s nothing contrived here.” Not surprisingly, the new music also has its psychic benefits, as well. “We’re liking the music we’re making,” he says, “and as people, we’ve accrued more ‘get-along points’ than Don Caballero has ever had before.”

DonCab 2K6 intend to make Problems for everyone across the United States this summer, with plans to bring the noise to whatever global hamlet wants them. Owners of unkempt long hair and faded Slayer t-shirts—as well as listeners from the realm of white belts and Rod Stewart haircuts—are encouraged to attend. Don Caballero doesn’t subscribe to any “scene elitism” and hope no one brings that kind of psychic baggage to their gigs. A festival show in Paris found the band sharing a stage alongside such hipster beard-scratcher favorites as U.S. noisemongers Hair Police and British eccentrics Volcano The Bear. ("There were beards," Che says about the gig, "but they did make a fuss.”) But long after the last songs are played, and the 117th set of drumsticks are reduced to kindling, Che’s sole concern comes off as selfish, but is essential to Don Caballero’s mythology.

The main edifice here was just to exist, he says. To exist, thrive and enjoy the process. The fanaticism has to start with us before it can reach the fans. - Jason Pettigrew