NEW YORK--One draws from the funkiest parts of East and West Africa, while the other's sound has been dubbed the music of the "Appalachian apocalypse."

The divergent paths of The Budos Band and O'Death crossed last night at the nexus of soul music, each showing off a sound that was both steeped in tradition and distinctly new.

At the CMJ Music Marathon party for digital distributor The Orchard's at the Slipper Room, the two bands also showed an appetite for destruction. With a title like O'Death, the country-goth five-piece isn't practicing nuance.

On several tracks during their 45-minute set, singer Greg Jamie would croon over an alt-country rhythm, with banjo player Gabe Darling and fiddler Bob Pycior leading the melody.

But almost every tune would inevitably surge down an avenue of utter chaos, with each member assaulting their instruments, most notably drummer David Rogers-Berry, who's been known to pound the skins with chains. Yes, chains. The highlight was "Adelita," an explosive track that transformed from old-time spiritual to foot-stomping frenzy at the blink of an eye.

It wasn't pretty by a long shot--while Darling fixed a broken string, the rest of the band members took several minutes to argue over which songs to play next, seeming to forget they were on a stage. But it was absolutely riveting music, a no-holds-barred hootenanny.

The Budos Band's taste for annihilation is a bit more subtle, insinuated only in the volcanic eruption and ready-to-strike scorpion of its first two album covers. The group's ultrafunky instrumental tunes are one part American soul and two parts African funk.

But whereas the influence of Nigerian Afrobeat legend Fela Kuti is certainly prevalent in the band's polyrhythmic percussion, the group's sound has lately drifted across Africa toward the off-kilter jazz-funk of Ethiopia's Mulatu Astatke.

"Budos Rising" was one of the more obvious examples, with baritone saxophonist Jared Tankel and trumpeter Andrew Greene leading the group through the swirling, midtempo track that was both strange and decidedly danceable.

The Budos boys are devout instrumentalists who say that they'll never bring in a singer because they want to retain the dynamic of a collective. Singers were strutting their stuff on stages throughout New York City last night, but for the Budos Band, the focus was singular: multifaceted, vicious funk.