Recording review - Wendy Atkinson, The Last Fret (2015)

Welcome to the gallery of memory

^3.25/5.0

The Last Fret is not so much an album as it is a sonic art installation dedicated to memory. That makes it more concerned with evoking particular moods than trying to fit into conventional songwriting structures. Wendy Atkinson's relatively short sketches achieve her targeted effect by exploring feelings of introspection, loss, and hope. She cloaks her bass with pensive ambient washes, electronic textures, and field recordings, occasionally expanding the tracks with other instruments or spoken word segments.

Our first stop in this gallery walk is "What Came Before", which creates the sense of moving through a foggy landscape of memory. Swells of electronic tone loom, but melt back into the featureless cotton before their details can register. Atkinson summons a distance between the events she's teasing apart and her need to find understanding and closure. The elegiac mood is reminiscent of Panderecki.

A couple of tracks later, another piece catches my deeper attention. "In the Off Season" pensively sways between two chords. While the title implies the idea of marking time, it feels more like two focal points of an old debate, where repetition has worn the exchange into an endless ellipse: neither side can ever win or even stand alone without the context of its negation. This is a fitting setup for "Hebron Birds", which draws on Atkinson's experience in that city. Her muddy, noisy recording of a chance encounter with a group of laughing girls in a mosque forms the internal recollection behind her spoken word piece that contrasts the "joyfulness, trust, and curiosity" of these girls with the troubled city they live in. It's a political statement but still emphatically personal. The simple instrumental accompaniment shades the story but stays to the background.

Two of the tracks disrupt the ambiance of the showing by falling outside the arc of the album. Her deconstruction of Chain and the Gang's "What is a Dollar" fits sonically but the anti-capitalist lyrics don't really connect thematically. By contrast, the wistful pop song structure of "Ukulele Shock" is shocking itself amidst the more expressive experimentation of the other tracks. Atkinson matter-of-factly relates a story from her youth, which ties the tune back to the central theme, but the punch line ending injects a touch of deadpan humor that also feels odd in this setting. Either of these songs might have best been saved for another setting, but fortunately they don't do any lasting damage to the coherent motif of The Last Fret.

Atkinson brings a rich range of textures and techniques to her work. The brevity of pieces often leave you wanting more, or perhaps a more detailed evolution, but her impressionistic, "less is more" approach leaves room for interpretation on subsequent visits. Her songs never overstay their welcome in part because she doesn't place too much weight on delicate structure of her material, The Last Fret is a thoughtful collection worthy of a relaxed afternoon or evening visit..

Recording review - Mike Gordon, Overstep (2014)

Polished performances resurrect jam band magic

It’s funny how you can totally misread a band’s internal chemistry. Like many people, I had always placed Trey Anastasio as the creative heart of Phish. It’s a natural mistake; he’s acted as the front man, wrote most of the songs (along with lyricist Tom Marshall) and covered the bulk of the singing. This is not to dismiss the rest of the band; Mike Gordon, Page McConnell, and Jon Fishman were all vital to Phish’s live sound and contributed their own material, too, but Anastasio seemed to be the center. In the years since Phish went on hiatus in 2004 and then returned in 2009, this seemed especially true. The band’s last album, Joy, reflected more of Anastasio’s tumultuous history rather than the band’s classic strengths.

But listening to Mike Gordon’s latest solo project, it’s strikingly clear just how wrong that analysis is. Sure, Anastasio may have dragged Phish down a bit on their last release, but Gordon’s songs on Overstep find the band’s old magic and it’s easy to imagine these tunes drifting into expansive live jams. In fact, “Yarmouth Road” and “Say Something” both turned up in Phish setlists last year. Maybe it’s a case of osmosis, but Gordon seems to have picked up a fair amount of his bandmate’s compositional approach. Take “Ether”, for instance. Once it winds its way past the ambient intro, it has a taste of Anastaio’s “Cayman Review” before it slips into the same lazy zone of Phish classics like “If I Could” (Hoist) or “Horn” (Rift). Similarly, “Paint” would fit well into that same era as one of those bridge songs that work well in the studio, but really shine on stage. With the descending repetition of the title, it would be easy to hear them slide the tune into a cover of David Bowie’s “Fame”.

But even if Overstep’s tunes can’t shake the comparisons, it is not a Phish album in disguise. Gordon took plenty of steps to ensure that. The biggest decision was bringing in producer Paul Q. Kolderie (Morphine, Radiohead), who brought a very polished sound to the album. Each sonic element is carefully preserved, making it easy to pick and choose the focus at any time. The vocals in particular are isolated cleanly, which adds to the impact on tracks like “Face”, where the backing harmonies meld but can still be separated. This clarity, though, comes at the cost of losing casual spontaneity. Another key choice was limiting the core personnel to Gordon’s longtime collaborator Scott Murawski (guitar and vocals) and Matt Chamberlain (drums). In addition to bass and vocals, Gordon adds guitar and organ. While the arrangements are anything but stark and stripped down, having fewer creative agents involved also contributes to the carefully constructed ambiance.

Despite the stylistic cues that Gordon can’t help but bring, Murawski and Chamberlain make no particular effort to cater to those expectations. That sets up some great tunes that break the jam band pattern. “Peel” stands out the most, creating a moody tension that circles around a one-drop guitar chank, winding tighter and tighter. Gordon’s bass is simple and repetitive, offering little respite. The faint shimmers of feedback and tone at the edges add to the otherworldly feel. Even when a song does lean back to type, Murawski makes his own solo statement, without worrying about WWTD: what would Trey do? On “Long Black Line”, he sets a steady accompaniment. Then, for his two leads, he opts for very tasteful melodic lines that rely on simple modal playing. Rather than drifting far afield like Anastasio tends to do, he keeps it bounded, staying in service to the song. Gordon seems inspired by the performance, adding plenty of interesting fills, but he keeps the bass similarly constrained during the vocals, waiting until the very end to close on a sweet flurry of notes.

If there are listeners that are not convinced that Gordon deserves a lot more credit for Phish’s creative vision after listening to Overstep, then they must see him little more than impressionable clay, formed by his role in the band. But spending some time with this album and Anastasio’s last couple of releases, it’s easy to see who has the more interesting set of ideas and stronger tunes.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Govinda, Resonance (2012)

Fluid violin against vibro-tronic bass grind builds a mysterious tension

Last year, Govinda (Shane O Madden) made my best of 2011 list with his impressive album, Universal On Switch. On his latest offering, Resonance, Madden continues to develop his sound, taking his gypsy violin and electronic grooves into a darker, bass heavy direction. Like Beats Antique, Govinda is rooted in an exotic world-tronica mix of produced sound, layered acoustic instruments, and foreign beats. But Govinda emphasizes the electronic production more than Beats Antique, giving his tracks a more experimental edge.

Govinda's production is stellar on Resonance. He builds a great 3-d sonic footprint in his tracks, where individual layers stand out from one another and slight EQ differences suggest distance and depth. On Sonic Muse, the individual parts -- the intro voice sample ("Follow me [giggle]"), the twinkling music box notes, the pizzicato notes of main groove -- remain distinct and suggest a wide auditory vista. The basic groove features a deep bubbling bass and sharp accents against a solid trance beat. Indian strings and drums, gypsy violin, and processed fragments of chanted voice all add to the foreign vibe of the piece, but the electronic sound dominates. Madden's violin weaves in and out of the mix with a fluid grace, but the track's structure remains geometrically centered.

The rich vocals on Plant the Seed or Clan of Love are a logical outgrowth from Universal On Switch's Myself. The jam on Plant the Seed gets a lot darker and glitch-driven, but Rosey's sultry voice is the common link:

Put the seed under your tongue
In the Springtime, I will come
Do you feel me grow inside of you?
Let love blossom, let love come through

Rosey is languid and seductive, giving the song a warm, jazzy flavor along with the sentimental strains of violin, but the glitchy music underneath seethes, unsettled. All too soon, the heady syncopation lurking within the electronic foundation grows restless and spawns a grinding bass line. The hint of dub step shifts into a smoother trance vibe that chills out the song into a trippy wind-down.

Resonance is best appreciated with closed eyes, so the listener can be immersed and surrender to the drifting electronic elements. On Candle Fire, Govinda sets a house groove where Indian instruments mesh with the electronic parts to build an exotic, abstract feel. The song develops into the album's iconic bass grind sound. Shimmering chimes, bowed strings, and whistling synth accents all slip in and out of the rasping, vibro-tronic current. Irina Mikhailova's chanting vocals offer a softer contrast to the saw-wave bass. Even with the rhythm hanging back, the track's intensity feeds a climbing tension.

Rounding out the female vocal contributions on the album, Krystyn Pixton offers a cool fem-pop sound on Clan of Love. Pixton's voice is dreamy, but Govinda processes her singing to fit the rolling sound of the tune. The spare, spacious intro yields to an electronic groove with a reggae beat. "I want your crazy/ Want your chaos wind on me." The assortment of parts fit together into a smooth whole, but there's an elemental randomness at work: touches of reggae bubble next to a fiddle melody with a Highlands vibe, and glitch cuts chop the song into Cubist slices. The resulting house of cards seems expertly balanced.

Govinda retains his trance grooves on Resonance, but this is an edgier offering than Universal On Switch. The rattling bass is a strong contributor, but the mix of soft and hard gives the new album a different, mysterious feel. There's greater complexity that pulls this music into the foreground.

Resonance is available on Govinda's Bandcamp page.

Recording review - Simon Little, [un]plugged (2012)

Live looped improvisations from a master bass player


Simon Little plays his bass at the cusp of organic and electronic. The emphasis is on the human element with warm tone, natural phrasing, and a bit of finger squeak. But Little peers over the edge, using looping and occasionally mixing in more heavily processed tones to challenge his listeners.

The chemistry of live looping is inherently different than the interaction of a band. At its worst, the player can get so distracted by the technology and thinking ahead that the music loses its spark of creativity. But the best loopers seem to naturally sense how to set a foundation and evolve a piece into a complex, beautiful construction. Even as [un] plugged shows off Little's skilled looping, it's his rich sonic palette that allows the tunes to find their own musical spaces.

Little's jazz sensibility infuses the pieces, but a pervasive dreamy vibe, electronic sounds, and modal playing gesture towards some New Age influences as well. One of his more interesting decisions was to rely solely on a Breedlove acoustic bass. Like a cross between a standard acoustic guitar and an electric bass, this instrument has a unique tone and feel: a little thinner than an electric bass, but breathing with resonance.

The chill wash of tone with a slight tremolo starting frostbite was a good opening for the album, but it was the second track, into the out that really spoke to me. It starts out with a simple, sparse melody. The song gets underway with a tight rhythmic loop that sets a tabla-like beat. Little works through the melody, building a suspenseful mood that recalls In the Hall of the Mountain King. After working his theme, Little steps out into flashier playing. Speedy, treble toned riffs rattle and then the section is repeated in reverse, back masked notes sucked out of the air. Rather than stay locked in this mode, Little's improvisation roams further afield and finds a more peaceful resolution.

This is what I love so much about [un] plugged - the fluidity of the playing matches the elasticity of the pieces. Songs develop and find themselves far from where they began, but the transitions flow smoothly.

On repetition is a form of change, the song begins with a classical guitar style approach, but a simple line becomes a set of looped arpeggios that create a more staccato accompaniment. Parts are added, evolving the progression into an ambient loop. Little's frequency shifted bass flits in and out like a darting bird. The song ends with a more crystalline structure.

Looping aficionados can analyze and appreciate Little's skill, but his evocative instrumental music transcends the technology. Listen to [un] plugged below, then drop by Bandcamp where you can name your price for the download (₤5 or more).

CD review - Knowa Knowone, Sound Paintings (2011)

Bass and glitch go global
Knowa Knowone's Sound Paintings lays out an electronic vibe that bridges club space and head space -- feet tap while the mind expands. The EP features five main tracks along with the obligatory remixes. Bass and glitch are the favored sonic elements, but Knowone also stirs in dub step, occasional hip hop beats, and non-electronic parts to create a vibrant sound.

Even as the bass growls through each track, the songs tread their own paths for an engaging listen. Each has a starting direction and mood that set the theme for Knowone's exploration. Aside from the seasoning of different musical sounds, the tracks also vary the sonic density, from the sparse groove of The Quari to the fully fleshed Ra (the Sun).

Here's the quick rundown of the main tracks:

• The Quari opens with a brief vocal that sounds like a Muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. This vocal chanting wanders in and out, adding an exotic feel. The moody groove itself is very open, leaving lots of space. Teases of deep bass punctuate a bouncy beat, while languid Middle Eastern melody lines drift by like cigarette smoke. The overall feel evokes Two Tone era ska, world beat, and trippy electronica all at the same time. The Quari is a great lead off song that pulls jaded listeners in for more.
• Naked on Acid changes the mood completely. A basic hip hop beat sets the rhythm, but the rest of the music is trippy bordering on a trance vibe. Dubby electronica threads a path between dub step and glitch. The heavy bass has a malevolent vibe while the higher synth lines imply a more detached feel. Ambient bits of sound add a heady element. The rhythmic parts on top of the foundation beat create a dancing elephant sort of feel. This lightens up during a dreamy, floating bridge section.
• Let Me Tell You a Story lives up to its title: the flow between song sections creates a sense of progression, moving between sparse and layered moments. The glitchy, machinelike groove is built on a solid, laid back beat. Heavy bass undertones pulse while piano accents stand out on the quiet moments. It's not my favorite track, but it's still fairly strong.
• Fire on the Roof is even stronger. Turntable scratches complements a driving glitch hop groove. The choppy jam is sprinkled with cool rap samples that slide in and out. The track cooks up an old vs. new feel that honors both. Retro scratching samples gain a sweet tension from the nasty electronic groove.
• Ra (the Sun) veers into another unique mix. Sweetly harmonized string lines soothe against a throbbing bass as hip hop vocals weave into the mix. Organic meets electronic to create a cybernetic synergy. The lyrical flow is smooth, with a contrast between the rapped verses and the R&B tinged chorus vocals. The track is packed with details to tease out on repeated listens. One of the remixes is just an instrumental version of this track, which stands up well, but the vocals bring the song into focus and add meaning.
  

Speaking of remixes, I'm not generally an aficionado. Sound Paintings includes two real remixes aside from the instrumental version of Ra (the Sun). While they aren't bad, neither offers a stronger perspective on the original versions. That's okay though, the backbone tracks do a fine job of showing off what Knowa Knowone can do.

CD review - Victor Wooten, Palmystery

Victor Wooten is a master of the bass guitar. He's been an integral part of Béla Fleck and the Flecktones (a jazz/bluegrass band) as well as a solo performer. He's often mentioned in the same company as Jaco Pastorius or Stanley Clarke, but his combination of technical brilliance, nuanced performance, and positive attitude make him stand out as a virtuoso.

Palmystery is his latest solo album. It covers a mix of styles, with emphasis on jazz fusion with nods to more of a smooth jazz feel. The flow of songs keeps things interesting as the mood shifts from the modal approach of 2 Timers to the soul jazz of Miss U. Along the way, Wooten even dips into an African pop sound for I Saw God. Throughout the disc, he steps out with some amazingly technical performances that still maintain musicality and heart.

Many funk and rock bass players are familiar with a technique of playing very fast, bass lines with a lot of incidental passing notes that are as much percussion as they are melody. Les Claypool of Primus has built his musical style around this approach. Victor's solo in Song For My Father (right around 3:05) demonstates how he can shift from some sweet melodic playing into this percussive style to kick a song into high gear. This cover of Horace Silver's song is one of the high points of Palmystery.

I Saw God has that South African sound that Paul Simon introduced to America with Graceland. One of the few non-instrumentals on the disc, it has a strong positive humanist message and wonderful backing vocals. A collaboration with Michael Franti on this kind of material would be a joy to listen to.

Even though both those songs are great, the best track is The Lesson, a simple instrumental with just bass and light percussion. It begins with a simple enough descending bass line that has a mild percussive element. It builds complexity and then the melody kicks in. Shut your eyes and slip into the flow of this beautiful piece of music. Some of the speedy percussive pops are just amazing. Though the song is largely contemplative, it evolves to bring in some tension and energy to the middle section. At times, it's hard to believe that this is a single bass with no overdubs.

Oftentimes, Wooten plays in the higher register of the bass, creating a sort of guitar sound. But he still has some big name guitar players sitting in on some songs. Mike Stern, Alvin Lee, and Keb' Mo all lend their talents. So there are all kinds of peaks here. On the other hand, there's only one valley: Happy Song. But that's because I'm not that fond of smooth jazz, which dominates that track.

Pour some fine Syrah and let the peppery fruit complement Victor's bass, with some dark plum notes and a fine spiciness.