A particular keyboard sound used to menace a lot of Oneida songs, pulsing and overheating like a hail of casino marquees. It becomes more of a beacon in the gloom of Preteen Weaponry's first track, as the trio spreads its might around, letting some of it linger and steam in the background, some of it drift to the front, and much of it wander the spaces between. The foreground often gets crowded on this incessantly experimental group's records, so this continuous 39-minute piece, mostly instrumental and divided up into three tracks, comes as something of a relief.
Oneida's feedback and static roar in the distance through much of "Preteen Weaponry Part 1," then congeal into gobs that burp and rumble forth throughout "Part 2." Kid Millions' drumming moves the record along as much as any other element, tumbling ominously through the beginning, slowing down at the center, and kicking the finale to a bright conclusion full of glitches and clicks. As the atonal flurries build up, Oneida keeps prodding them all into suspense and shading, a fine compliment to the somber guitar and key melodies that plod through "Part 1." More than ever, it's clear that Oneida's vision goes beyond mere walls or pools of sound. On Preteen Weaponry, it patiently carves its own landscape and brews up the weather to go with it.