Matt Robidoux - Brief Candles (\\NULL|ZØNE//, 2020)

When this little blog first took flight, the first ink spilled was for a self-titled cassette by a project named Isness.  Half of the Isness duo is Oakland-based musician Matt Robidoux, a coastal transplant who ran with Sunburned Hand of the Man when he was located nearer to the Atlantic Ocean.  He is a purveyor of fine songcraft, and Brief Candles – his latest tape – totally spills the beans with respect to his deftness in musical ideation.

There are 17 performers other than Robidoux who are credited as being involved in these compositions, which were realized over a 2-year period beginning in 2017.  Each individual lends their distinct musical signature, playing loosely within the framework that Robidoux has assembled.  “Rose Room” leads the proceedings, as the composer croons atop a scrappily strummed guitar and wobbly wind instrument melodies.  The piece swoons, staggers a little bit and tumbles around before collapsing entirely.  Taking a completely contrarian position to the preceding piece, the instrumental “Little Wall” is a tightly wound composition, complete with a staccato section in which each instrument pierces the silence with its voice.  I sense the influence of Gastr Del Sol here, but I could be wrong.

Robidoux sways between weirdness and complete control across the length of this tape, and it’s actually quite refreshing.  Veering between precision and looseness allows for subtle shifts in tone as each piece reveals itself, piquing our interest over and over again.  One particular piece that exemplifies the complete array of sensibilities is the epic “Reflection Space”, which begins with an understated synth warble before morphing into something almost completely motorik in nature a la Neu!  Then the horns enter, stumbling over each other in an attempt to freak everyone out.  Robidoux attempts to calm things down with his soothing voice, which only heightens the intensity even more.  This track alone is worth the price of admission.

Robidoux still has copies of this imaginative and attention-grabbing cassette, so steer your ship over to yonder Bandcamp and slap a few bucks down for this one.  You’ll thank me later.

Isness - Isness (Crash Symbols, 2018)

The West Virginian cassette tape gurus over at Crash Symbols continue their unrelenting cadence of adventurous releases, showing no signs of slowing down.  The label’s been offering up about a tape every month since around April of this year, and each one is a pleasure to behold in both the visual and the aural realms.  Even cooler, some of their tapes are accompanied by an artwork-matching button that you can proudly wear on your favourite jacket now that Autumn is here and the icy weather is brewing.

The latest spool of goodness to hail from the Crash Symbols camp is a delicious slice of harmonious improvisation from Isness, the duo project of Montreal’s Catherine Debard (YlangYlang) and Oakland-based composer Matt Robidoux (Curse Purse with Ted Lee of Feeding Tube Records, ex-Speedy Ortiz).  Robidoux is actually a west coast transplant, originally hailing from Massachusetts, inhabiting the zany orbit that folks like Sunburned Hand of the Man also abide.  He and Debard crossed paths via a web of touring and other opportune moments of translocation, synergistically creating the isness of… …well, Isness.

A third member graces the A side of this delicious tape, violinist Jenifer Gelineau of Sunburned Hand of the Man.  This material was recorded in summer 2017 when the three musicians convened in Ontario, Canada, and is very much dream-like in execution.  A soft drone permeates the proceedings over which violin, percussion, flute, what sounds like banjo, and the ocean’s roar are all interwoven across the first three tracks.  The side closes with “Beach Pizza”, its clangorous strings and feedback serving as the jarring wake up call that abruptly terminates the mesmerizing hallucination it succeeds.

On the flip, we have the pair of Debard and Robidoux on their own, sprouting a growing delusion of amorphous room tones, string scrapes, samples, percussion, and other less discernable sounds.  Their poetry grows ever musical as the side unfolds, abstract aural phenomena coalescing into crystalline patterns which then splinter apart such that the resulting sonics are at times mellifluous and at others certifiably strange.

You can peer into the spellbinding mindshare that is Isness by pointing your browser to the Crash Symbols Bandcamp; there are still physical copies available.