It’s not often that we cover hand percussion on Gear Gods, since congas metal since Puya, and the only “dje” word that the kids care about today sure isn’t “djembe.” But I feel it’s my duty to proselytize this, the culmination of musical history, the end point where form and function collide.
Pearl have created some sort of rhythmic black hole, absorbing all notes and passion into a block of the purest, most dense matter. Behold, the Fun Box. This simple cube has the atomic weight of a thousand suns. It’s said that to simply stand in its presence is to have all joy ripped from you and devoured. Loves and dreams from epochs of dead troubadours scrape at the walls from within, but can’t shatter the horizon line though their wails and blows see no respite.
And Pearl want to put this devilry in the hands of children. They’re monsters, all of them.