Triangle & Rhino
Triangle & Rhino
Genres: punk, heavy, experimental, noise, noise rock
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CAT´N`GUYEN
About Triangle & Rhino
www.triangleandrhino.com "WELCOME TO THE IMPOSSIBLY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE OF PERFECTION" or The museum of achieving personal reward in the face of public indifference and professional jealousy. A Triangle & Rhino history lube primer by I.I. Hurlbutt. Triangle & Rhino are two men maintaining a lifelong endeavor with no end. Joined as young men, one outgoing and often celebrated, the other prone to to self importance and grating. Time has seen these characteristics flip flop similar to the poles magnetic north until homeostasis was reached and their characteristic strengths and weaknesses were adopted by both. They would preform for years in punk bands with songs that couldn't play and then onto bands without songs that could play. Just like their brains and personalities melding time would mold these influences and experience into a new band with a new-to-them unspoken idea. Triangle & Rhino. Cheap guitars, beat drums, and free amps. It could have been KILLED. But no one noticed. No one said it would be a bad idea. No one said that in 10 years you will still do this and pay rent somewhere else to do it. They might not have listened. Matt could calmly party. Jake could calmly find trouble. They toured for 39 days after being a band for 5 months. They had recorded an album and bothered to get people to listen. Then they made a drunk DRUG tape. The foundation of the invisible castle was built. They would tell you that the next few years would be a blur. Beer. Work. Shows. They lived in the woods eventually. It was during this time they would tell you they met some incredible inexplicable assholes. This would be true. But those assholes have been outlived. Believe. Triangle & Rhino will forever Outlive All Dicks (That Front On Them). They toured more. They met co-conspirators, sympathizers, and men would greatly influence them but not a single fan. Fans would have distracted the PATH that these men were to follow. Cheap guitars, better drums, homemade amps. 100's of compositions. I have watched these men in recent years effortlessly birth riffage and thrashing. One tiny Michiganer once said of his performance on his band's new track as, "I wanted to play like Matt. Hit every drum at once." I remember no one commenting on Jake's playing. But they should have. Unfortunately we live in an era of slackjawed hipsters posing on the NET and withering in person. It seems to be an impossible sea to cross. A cesspool devoid of light and motivation. But these men still show up for practice amongst emo weenies in their dad's van, their mom's makeup, and their sister's jeans and fat no talent unemployed truck driver metal tards. Guffah! "The Invisible Castle Is Built On The Frosty Ruin" While my own life lies crushed by disappointment, I see these two moving on unscathed. I spin "Fuckin' Howdy" and drink. Tomorrow I start my own desultory journey in search of fucking Purgatory. You are in the shadow of the invisible castle because they allow it. Thank you, I.I. Hurlbut
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