You know that silence can be loud

As those gritty little philosophers like Jean Paul Sartre or Soren Kierkegaard would have you believe, the option of free will exists multilaterally. Which is to say, a myriad of choices will come up in just about any situation and the result is a combined effort of arbitrary heads making arbitrary decisions. The only thing you really have to do in life is die.\nThis is the kind of resolution the two bands playing at The Bluebird Monday night understand. Brokeback and Califone, two noise/roots rock outfits from Chicago, played for themselves as much as the sparse crowd of the regular Bloomington scenesters. \nOpening the night, Brokeback played a quiet set of music concrete-infused jazz rock, typical for labelmates at the Chicago-based record company Thrill Jockey. Led by guitarist Douglas McCombs of the ubiquitous experimental instrumental group Tortoise, Brokeback displayed dexterity and flexibility. McCombs plays his guitar graciously, exploring the lower ranges of the notes available to the human ear. This makes the group sound like late era Sonic Youth as led by Johnny Cash's guitarist Luther Perkins. \nDespite the fusion leanings of its recordings, Brokeback sounded necessarily folksy. The Environments-style soundscapes were brought in courtesy of a laptop computer, errant guitar riffs and synthesizer excursions by Califone multi-instrumentalist Jim Becker. \nAs with Brokeback, Califone was plagued or dominated or escorted (it fits to whichever way you lean) by incidental noise. When Brokeback closed its set with one last ambiguous, faceless song, a plastic cup hit the cement floor of the Bluebird. It sounded so fitting that it would have been planned by anyone else. Though similar moments would be as lovely for Califone, it tried to build a sound around insistent, unwavering polyrhythms. \nOriginally, Califone rose up from the ashes of the dear, departed blues-rock group Red Red Meat. Fronted by singer/songwriter/guitarist/keyboardist Tim Rutili, Califone presents rock as atmospheric. Such is the modern atmosphere that a banjo doesn't sound out of place when juxtaposed with a guitar or an organ fed through innumerable foot pedals and delay effects.\nThe group displayed a dizzying arsenal of instruments to keep itself and the crowd amused. From the two percussionists' tabletops of rhythmic toys and whistles to Becker's banjos, guitars, beat up fiddle and bells and Rutili's own guitar stash and droning organ, the band was constantly searching for the perfect moment of effortless cohesion.\nLike Rutili's vocals, which never sound more than mumbled, Califone is a band that speaks in muted or whispered tones. Bordering on sad bastard music can be a tedious affair, but the band still seems able to induce freak out proportions with endless rhythm at any time. \nCapricious is really the right word to use for the evening. Seeing two mystical bands swoop in on Bloomington Monday night, playing to an exasperated crowd, was quite a random experience. The decisions we made and those the band found itself making were all part of the same astral feeling. It's comforting to know that intellect, beauty and succor can still be found in the same room from time to time.