Northern Exposure Will Be Right Back

Hey folks, apologies on the lack of post last week.  I spent Tuesday night at the Burdock in Toronto having my socks blown off by the inimitable Seymour Glass of Glands of External Secretion and Bananafish fame.  So needless to say, my week was a write-off - literally.  Stay tuned for regularly scheduled programming later this week, but in the meantime, check out this vid of Mr. Glass shaking cerebellums in the best way possible, courtesy of my bud Ayal Senior over at the Youtube channel dreamweaponfilm.  Cheers,  Hazy

Nate Wooley - Columbia Icefield (Northern Spy, 2019)

Improvisational trumpeter Nate Wooley is joined by a cabal of similarly adventurous musicians on this ode to the largest field of glaciers in the Rockies.  Electric guitarist Mary Halvorson, pedal steel player Susan Alcorn, and drummer Ryan Sawyer – along with Wooley – endeavor to employ their instruments in honor of the mammoth feat of Mother Nature known as the Columbia Icefield.  Producing three gigantic pieces of intertwined chords, sidelong melodies, and skittering percussion, the quartet have juxtaposed their innate humanness against the spiritual nature of this chilling and chilly monument.  What they’ve created cannot compare with something so immense, but they’ve done their damnedest to try.  And what an effort Columbia Icefield is.

Opening with the twenty-minute-long epic “Lionel Trilling”, which at times feels like the efforts of a trio in the mode of the minimalists due to the sparse employment of Wooley’s trumpet, the quartet wind an invisible coil spring to near breaking point.  About a third of the way through the piece, the group releases the pent-up tension that has been brewing but then move to turn the screws ever tighter until track’s end.  “Seven in the Woods” is another slowly brewing piece of music, but this time the quartet are in a languid mode.  Sawyer’s drums churn and bubble, while the other three players waft in and out in a smoky haze.  The piece closes out with a few searing moments of guitar/steel interplay that really stand out.  On “With Condolences”, Wooley and company take a few minutes to usher in a dirge that gives way to all-out sprays of notes, chords, and noise.  This heady brew is quite fiery, complete with both untreated and completely distorted vocal passages that are definitely unnerving.

With Columbia Icefield, Wooley and his bandmates have done a fantastic job attempting to replicate the outright chaos, the unnerving bleakness, and the sheer monolithic nature of one of our planet’s most expansive locales.  In order to even begin to fathom these glacial forms, you’ll need to head over to Wooley’s Bandcamp or the Northern Spy imprint’s website.  Tune in, turn on and chill out.

Peter Evans and Sam Pluta - Two Live Sets (Carrier, 2019)

These two gentlemen are heavy hitters in the exploratory improv scene, both in the US and abroad.  Sam Pluta is actually both an improviser and a composer and focuses on using his laptop as a performance instrument, having written software specifically for the unique interactivity of playing live.  The Chicago-based sound artist is heavily credentialed, and among the activities in which he participates, he is often found working alongside trumpeter Peter Evans.  Evans is focused primarily on improvisation as a means to engage in both solo sonic exploration and collaborative composition.  He is a member of many co-operative ensembles, and as a leader fronts the Peter Evans Ensemble (of which Pluta is a member) and Being & Becoming.  As you can probably imagine, together these two are dangerously good.

Released on Carrier Records (which Pluta co-runs with synthesist Jeff Snyder), Two Live Sets exemplifies the hydra-headed set of modes with which these two top players tackle improvisation.  Evans’ trumpet playing is stretched to the limits of human possibility, matched perfectly by the super-human abilities of Pluta’s software.  When Evans brays in the unholiest of timbres, Pluta meets him with sinister modem tones; when Pluta unleashes ropes of disfigured sound, Evans sprays forth colorful threads of rapidly weaving melody.  The two players wind around each other, sparring jauntily, and then separate into opposite corners before meeting up again in a delicious collision of explosive potential.

Comprising two extended performances (the CD only contains the set recorded at the De Singer club in Belgium) that stretch out to a lengthy forty-five minutes each, Two Live Sets is sure to please those looking for boundary-pushing sound art.  There is enough variety in tone, timbre and energy – although the proceedings stray mostly within fiery territory – that a hungry listener is sure to find something delicious to chew on.  Take a spin over to the Carrier Records Bandcamp and explore for yourself.

Lunaria - Mist and Light (Aural Canyon, 2019)

Here we have our second investigation into the mystical world of the Texas-based Aural Canyon label.  This time around, we are probing the nocturnal wanderings of Spanish sound weaver Daniel Guillén, who records as Lunaria.  With Mist and Light, Guillén expresses a thoughtful nod to the space our mind inhabits when it is hovering between wakefulness and sleep.  The four pieces he offers were realized over the course of three years as he explored what he refers to as the “harmonious relationship between darkness and clarity, mist and light, unconsciousness and lucidity”.  Each is a unique take on this inward journey toward nocturnal rest, an encapsulation of deep introspection into how our consciousness drifts toward unconsciousness.

The tape leads off with “Lullaby for the Clouds”, a drifting piece of ambient bliss, complete with lilting melodies, lush synths, and a deep heartbeat of a bass line.  Layers of sound roll in like a welcome fog over a pristine body of water, the sense of tranquility being enhanced by each element.  This track is love incarnate.  “Numinous” takes on somewhat of a darker tone, with uncanny melodies that feel suspenseful.  The thick synths are woven together with a cinematic sensibility that is quite intense.

On the flip is the eponymous track, a slightly alien but ultimately angelic piece of music.  A sprightly rhythmic element is played against elegiac chords and a delicate melodic lead.  Choral pads emphasize the heavenly nature of this gorgeous track.  “Secret Path” is also quite beautiful, but in a somewhat mysterious, almost playful way.  Droplets of melody are sprinkled gingerly across cascading waves of synthetic chords, which emanate like contrails from Guillén’s delicate fingertips.  This wave-like undulation seemed to sync up with my own brainwaves, lulling me into an almost hypnagogic state – but I guess that’s ultimately the intent here.

You too can explore inner space with Lunaria; head on over to the Aural Canyon Bandcamp and prepare to be entranced.

Curved Light - Flow and Return (Constellation Tatsu, 2019)

Another perennial favorite label of mine is Constellation Tatsu, the Oakland-based purveyors of finely-hewn monolithic soundscapes.  The label’s paradigm of batch-based release schedules leads to periodic doses of gorgeous textures in both the aural and visual orbits.  The Winter 2019 batch is a quartet of goodness, peaked by this lovely salvo of sound from Austin’s Curved Light (a.k.a. Peter Tran).

Flow and Return exists on many spheres: Tangerine Dream-esque oceans of sound, expertly-sequenced synth dramas, and ornately decorated dronescapes.  Most of the pieces clock in at under two minutes in length, but there is a tremendous amount of content packed into each minuscule capsule.  “Brightlea” wanders in with a warped yet lush sensibility, before morphing into the shimmering ocean of “Sea Change”.  A crackling glitch carries “Glacial Float” along into the melodic sunset of “Crescent / Visions in Eclipse”, which is a five-minute mini-masterpiece.

The endless beams of energy continue to pour from Tran’s synth-infused limbs over the course of a total of fourteen different pieces of music.  Present are shades of the previously mentioned Tangerine Dream, as well as the gurgling textures of Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and the arpeggiated melodies that seem to weave their way into the oeuvres of many of the Austin electronic wizards with which he rubs elbows.  Yet Tran throws a whole lot of himself into his music, such that it ends up becoming a synergistic brew that transcends his influences and bears his unique stamp.

Bathe in the cascading sonic textures by warping over to the Constellation Tatsu Bandcamp, and snap up the entire Winter 2019 batch, why don’t you?  You’ll thank me later…

The Cosmic Range - The Gratitude Principle (Idée Fixe, 2019)

There has been a slowly brewing storm hovering over Toronto for over a decade.  The storm has many fronts, tendrils of cloud that roll outward and then collapse inward again.  The maelstrom comprises talent, musicianship, songcraft, camaraderie, gratitude, and love.  This is The Cosmic Range.  The members of this crew share a deep sense of mutual respect; they have maneuvered individually and in many collaborative configurations over the years but convene to conjure sweet sonic love together as a unit.  Now they’ve unveiled The Gratitude Principle for our fortunate ears to salivate over.

If one must name a leader of The Cosmic Range, then Matthew “Doc” Dunn comes to mind, yet there is serious groupthink present in the execution of this music.  Kieran Adams, Jonathan Adjemian, Isla Craig, Andy Haas, Mike “Muskox” Smith, Maximilian “Slim Twig” Turnbull, Brandon Valdivia and Dunn are true collaborators.  They are a unit, espousing a love for the music that unfurls naturally from their bodies.  Together they unleash a cosmic, fiery, jazz-inspired groove that bobs and weaves to avoid pigeonholing.  Demolishing genre, and instead choosing to birth new forms of composition and improvisation, the group bash their way through six evocative and entrancing pieces of music.

Leading off with “Palms to Heaven”, the Range immediately set in motion a flurry of dark, free jazz-inspired shadows.  Craig’s wordless vocalizing invokes the presence of sinister beings, as the group improvises a throbbing rumble beneath her.  A hint of respite arrives with “Breathing Water”, in which a delicate flute melody leads into a percussive groove that calls forth dub forms filtered through the clear lens of consonance.  “Eyes for Rivers” is transformative to those unprepared.  Stabbing deep to the core of our lizard brains, the warped sax and damaged electronics trigger a deep emotional response.  It’s unrestrained imagination at its finest, a Lynchian nightmare come to life.

Easily my favorite piece, “The Observers” shines brightly with a jazz-funk glow.  The unstoppable rhythm and ripping solos are mind-bending, to say the least.  It’s an unrelenting blast of incendiary bliss.  “Rivers for Eyes” is a snake-like trip to another dimension, a collective improvisation that sails toward mysterious shores.  The Gratitude Principle closes with an eponymous piece, one that unfurls with a swinging pace.  The patient cadence builds toward a grand climactic statement that finds The Cosmic Range tearing a hole in space-time, with just enough momentum to throw us off our orbit.  It’s the perfect ending to a stellar collection of music.

Snap up this swinging collection of cosmic tunesmithery while it’s hot.  Hit up the Idée Fixe website or the Cosmic Range Bandcamp and choose your poison.  It’s tasty!

FRAME - The Journey (Glacial Movements, 2019)

The Rome-based duo of Eugenio Vatta and Andrea Benedetti began the FRAME project in 1992 as an effort to re-create the atmosphere of a silent movie theater, except that instead of an orchestra playing in real time, they would use electronics specifically assembled to accompany the film.  They improvised in real time in order to give the proceedings a sense of humanness, an organic vibe that provided a feeling of richness and warmth.  A quadraphonic setup, samples, spoken word, electro-acoustic sound, and noises served to immerse the audience in the experience, which became a cross between a live concert and a cinematic performance.  Each event was unique, and the duo prepared loads of recordings, which they’ve assembled, edited and compiled for The Journey.

These soundscapes are intended to be focused around the absence of sound: the silent nature of outer space and of “glacial environments”.  The ten pieces presented radiate outward from the center of our solar system, starting at planet Mercury and flowing toward Pluto and its satellites.  This interplanetary locomotion is tectonically-paced – this is ambient music, after all.  Yet there are micro-events within the undulating drones: a wispy clatter that rises and falls in soft focus in “Venus Frame”, a cavernous gurgle in “Jupiter Frame”, and a shuffling pattern of static in “Pluto and Charon” all serve to disrupt the mesmerizing waves of blissful tonality.

Listening to The Journey is akin to enjoying the comforts of the familiar.  Even as the underlying themes are of silence and alienation, the warm tones send the audience to a positive emotional space.  There is light here, and beauty.

Digital and physical copies of this delightful orbit can be obtained from the Glacial Movements Bandcamp.  Capture one, and drift onward and outward.