CD review - Matt Stevens, Ghost (2010)

Experimental acoustic guitar. It conjures up images of foaming potions, electrical cables, and challenging music. My first impression of Matt Stevens' Ghost was that it seemed too satisfied with its own experimental nature. Fortunately, I gave it a second listen. Maybe the moon was in the right phase, but this time, the experiment was a success.

Ghost is full of atmospheric sonic poems that often veer towards a kind of soundtrack-like programmatic music. Stevens assembles his compositions with acoustic guitar parts (often looped) and minimal touches of bass, percussion, and keyboard. Each song has its own unique melodic elements -- stuttering rhythms, odd tonalities, and intriguing harmonies. At the same time, most of these songs are very evocative, pulling up moods and images. Musically, there are elements of jazz, folk, rock, and progressive rock, but Stevens isn't too worried about genre: a single song may shift from jazz to prog rock and back.

As a guitarist, Stevens has a wonderful touch. The playing varies from brilliantly crisp notes to looser glissando notes to a tightly controlled vibrato. In every case, Stevens achieves the effect the song calls for.

It's hard to reduce the review to a small handful of songs. There are many nice moments here.

Eleven sets up a relentless arpeggio as a foundation for a simple repetitive finger picking line. A smooth lead lies like over the top like a coverlet. Small chimes accentuate the guitar. The song is thoughtful, but there's a satisfying tension between the arpeggio and the finger picking.

My favorite track is Burnt Out Car, which balances an upbeat major 7th groove with a darker, more pensive section. The cheery part has a Pink Floyd vibe and an open, golden meadow feel. Some passes, it has a jaunty angular flow over the top. The contrasting part is like stepping into the shadows, where there's a slightly threatening feel. The song whipsaws these shifting moods, but the changes are smooth.

Both Lake Man and Ghost are more introspective and fitful, but in different ways. Lake Man is stripped down and spooky. The beat and growling bass lay out a techno feel under the classical lead line. Ghost, on the other hand, sets up a lurching rhythm and swells of sound to create a slightly mournful mood. It's busier, with more moving parts. One thing these two songs share, though, is a sense of breath...a taste of chaotic life.

This feel is pervasive throughout Ghost. The writing and execution stand up well with each other. I'll suggest Russian River's Pliny the Younger as a nice pairing.

Ghost is available on Matt Stevens' site, where you can stream it or download it and name your own price. Give it a couple of listens and, if you like it, support a great musician.

Recording review - Matt Stevens, Lucid (2014)

Musical tiles coalesce into a more complicated mosaic

Matt Stevens’ latest solo sketchbook borrows cubist techniques to deconstruct his musical aesthetic and juxtapose all of the perspectives into a single work. Any given point has its locus of continuity and the songs flow into one another in a meaningful way, but on first impression, the project as a whole seems scattershot as it slides from driving post-rock through acoustic art rock to jazzy interludes. But it turns out that Lucid is well-titled, after all. Step back and take a look at the album in toto and you'll see that Stevens draws on the looped guitar experiments of his early work and the more intense exploration of his recent work with The Fierce and the Dead to assert himself. Like Walt Whitman, he is large, he contains multitudes. And although he lets all of these musical personas loose, he’s also invited a host of talented players to join Any given angle or track provides a different window on Stevens’ development as a player.

My first introduction to Stevens was his 2010 solo album Ghost (review), with its wonderfully evocative acoustic guitar loops and jazzy touches. Some of the new tunes call back to Ghost’s sound, like the Beatlesque jazz of “KEA” or the Latin-tinged post-rock of “The Other Side”, which is reminiscent of Ghost’s “Burnt Out Car”. At the same time, Stevens’ heavier tone with The Fierce and the Dead is also well represented, especially on standout tracks like “Unsettled”. Bandmate Stuart Marshall provides the phenomenal drum work that locks the tune down with taut rhythms and tight flourishes. Marshall’s cage barely holds the flailing tantrum of guitar in check. That discipline supports the raw chaotic expression, creating a dynamo of energy that sounds like some kind of head-banging King Crimson mutant. Speaking of Crimson, drummer Pat Mastelotto lends his solid, open-fill drumming to the angular guitar exercise of “The Ascent”. The progression is torn from the Robert Fripp handbook, but the metallic guitar borrows more from players like Steve Vai. Stevens channels a vein of pure emotion and vents out against the mathematical structure of the piece.

That passion and flair set up the sharp transition to my favorite track on Lucid, “Coulrophobia”. “The Ascent” drops away, leaving a vacuum. Tentative, moody notes drip softly into a starlit pool, like Porcupine Tree covering “Echoes” by Pink Floyd. A nervous shimmer of tension lurks at the edges, but never quite comes into focus. Like a dream, there is no control as the tune slowly unfolds at a calculated pace. The nervous energy can’t shake the calm lack of volition and it builds towards a thin trickle of terror. The piece summons more of a sense of sleep paralysis than scary clowns for me, but the savory element of fear certainly comes through. Unfortunately, the song is over all too quickly, moving on to the moody drive of the title track.

In fact, with the exception of the epic piece, “The Bridge”, which runs almost 12 minutes, most of these songs are shorter vignettes. This is what gives Lucid its sketchbook feel, but this, too, is part of Stevens' artistic sense. Where many of his post-rock peers drag out their songs into long-running feasts, he prefers to make instrumental tapas, which showcase a idea with clarity and then set up the next exciting flavor. Lucid collects all of these into strange collection of contrasts and surprises, but the net result is a great musical meal.

CD review - The Fierce and the Dead, If It Carries On Like This, We Are Moving to Morecambe (2011)

I've reviewed Matt Stevens' solo work before. His acoustic/experimental looping is jazzy and thoughtful. His current band, the Fierce and the Dead, takes Stevens' sound into a post-rock direction. The flow on If It Carries On Like This, We Are Moving to Morecambe slides from looser interludes to periods of intense focus. Usually from song to song, but occasionally it even waffles within a single track.

This collection of instrumentals evokes a sense of 3 a.m., whether it's peaceful solitude or uneasy sleeplessness. The ambient start of Flint rises to our attention like the sound of static from a television waking us up. Except the sound continues expanding to a noisy crescendo until the bass comes in to provide a structure that outlasts the noise. The bass and drums anchor the song while the guitar alternates between emotional shimmers of sound and cleaner jazz melody. Like several other tracks on If It Carries On Like This, the abstract arrangement is centered on the repeated bass line.

H.R. sets off a chain of King Crimson influenced tracks. The constantly climbing, angular guitar line is pure Robert Fripp. It builds tension before erupting into post rock flail. The next track, Hotel No. 6, resolves the tension into a softer pillow of sound, recalling Fripp and Eno's ambient works. But that's merely an interlude before the grinding Thrak-like sound of Landcrab.

My favorite track is 10x10. Following the album's formula, the bass and drums provide the basic foundation for the guitar to snap on a series of textures. Looping allows Stevens to lay on layers of interlocking parts. This repetitive groove proves quite versatile as the band even takes it into a glitchy electronic space. Even though the Fierce and the Dead's sound is in thrall to the guitar, 10x10 creates a keyboard-friendly zone.

If It Carries On Like This is a nice roller coaster ride. The album gives us plenty to think about in those early morning hours: thoughtful, then anxious; nostalgic but also cathartic. Each moment pondered on its own merits like a fine salty Islay scotch.

If It Carries On Like This, We Are Moving to Morecambe is currently available as a "pay what you will" download on Bandcamp.

Recording review - The Fierce and the Dead, On VHS (2012)

Now even Fiercer, TFATD's progressive exploration gets extreme

Every musician in a good band surrenders some element of control over his musical vision. Even strong willed players like Frank Zappa and Robert Fripp found new musical avenues opened by the other players they collected. Experimental loop wizard Matt Stevens walked the same path with the Fierce and the Dead. The trio pushed his more reflective sound into post-rock/progressive spaces on their first album together. Stevens comfortably embraced the sound and the songs carried a lively spark of excitement and surprise

With On VHS, the trio has added Steve Cleaton on guitar and keys, stepping into even wilder territory. The four tracks on the EP still offer strong dynamic shifts, but the big sections venture into crunchier prog with veins of metal.

The opening cut, 666...6, fades in with an ambient loop that lulls the listener into a loose trancy feel. It doesn't last, though, as the driving guitar riff stomps in and takes control. The song has a Frankenstein's monster aspect, with mismatched parts spliced together. Unlike the Monster, 666...6 captures the sense of disparate parts melding into a cyborg whole. The hobnail boot guitars, cool crystalline pattern skin, and broad melodic bass shoulders meld with the calm mind of the opening loop to achieve a unity of purpose. The last thrash of wild guitar is exultant.

Hawaii dusts off TFATD's King Crimson roots, along with touches of reverb soaked post punk elements. The thrashing metal rhythm guitar and distorted bass line contrast with the structure formed by the intricate interlocking parts. Offering power and promise, the sound is like watching an island form from the steamy mix of seawater and hot lava.

The title track gets closest to the sound of the band's first album. Kev Feazey's bassline defines the song, stalking confidently forward through a landscape of guitar patterns. Stuart Marshall's kick heavy drum work meshes perfectly to pave the way for the bass. The balance between the order of the rhythm section and the increasingly abstract guitars shifts to embrace an invigorating chaos.

On VHS closes with Part 3. The bass sets the stage for Stevens' sparse Sleepwalk guitar lines. The regular repetition of the bassline creates a sense of security. The guitar continues even after the bass drops out, setting the stage for a transition into a more active section. Part 3 breathes, with calming inhalation and stronger exhales. Each exhalation builds in intensity. A fuzzed out guitar joins the bass line while wild psychedelic echoes of guitar lurk at the blackout edges. Sweet anarchy.

The Fierce and the Dead promise a new album this summer that should expand on their sound here. Cleaton's influence on the band is promising, so I'm looking forward to more exciting music. On VHS is available as a "name your price" download from the band's Bandcamp page. Be generous and help fund the next chapter of this great band.

Recording review - The Fierce And The Dead, Spooky Action (2013)

Post-rock vignettes offer complexity and surprises

Pretty pop songs and simple I-IV-V blues rock jams are all too predictable. Flannel and comfort food have their appeal, but sometimes something stronger is called for. Spooky Action celebrates the idea of being challenged without earning the “difficult listening” label. The Fierce And The Dead build their progressive rock instrumentals with an eye for intriguing structures that ignore cookie-cutter shortcuts. Like jazz, their tonal exploration and rhythmic complexity draw on a richer palette of angles and textures. But where jazz usually forces a choice between relaxed harmonic flows and free jazz chaos, guitarist Matt Stevens and his band embrace the whole gamut, sometimes within a single song. A raw cathartic growl might yield to introspection or a sudden sense of purpose, only to thrash again shortly.

Oftentimes, the band’s animal expression is tied to Kevin Feazey’s rough bass tone. On the album’s first single, “Ark”, he leads the charge with a raspy rallying cry. Soon, he’s flanked by a pair of jangled guitars. The bouncy groove is warm and sunny, but the foggy bass keeps a chill in the air. The tune gradually grows more refined, with interlocking arpeggios sliding into place. By this time, Feazey has been seemingly defanged. But the genteel moment is overturned with a sudden punch of distortion and sharp drum beat that releases the bass to briefly stalk between the ringing guitars. His freedom is quickly curtailed though and the melody asserts a thoughtful control. It suggests that events are falling into place, that ambitions are coming to fruition. Even the bottom end finds a supporting role. But like most plans, this one eventually confronts a harsh reality and the percussive crunch returns. After chaos spends itself in a victorious show of force, order returns, but makes a more tentative sortie. The drums and bass cautiously step forward with a triplet riff and the guitars test the waters with simple expansive notes that lightly echo in space. Growing in confidence, the tune builds in volume and complexity, finally rising to a satisfied climax that balances the beauty of singing guitars and the beastly bass. It’s particularly nice that the band avoids self-indulgence by fitting such progressive excursions into a manageable run time. “Ark” tells its story in about four minutes.

The Fierce And The Dead had its roots in Steven’s solo music, which is filled with ethereal guitar loops. When Steve Cleaton joined for the group’s last EP, On VHS (2012), his guitar and keyboard work pushed the band to develop a rougher edge. “Intermission 3” harks back to their beginnings with a loose ambient flow. Softly hazed echoes and a windswept soundscape set the mood. As sounds swell into view and then fade, there’s the disorienting sense that something is pacing at the edge of perception. The eerie tension finally bleeds off like a fading apparition, lulling the listener. But it’s a false sense of release and the dissipating fog is ripped apart with the transition to the title track. Like a cold splash of water or a jarring slap, “Spooky Action” triggers an adrenaline spike. The tight, staccato rhythm and thick wall of guitar snarl offer a distressed King Crimson vamp as the song takes its time setting the hook. In a trademark dynamic shift, the tune brings the fear to a head then drops into a sun-dappled interlude. Cheery pop guitars and percussion chimes offer a carefree rebuttal to the opening anxiety. The song is permeated with a feeling of acceptance as it picks up a stronger sense of direction. Even the sudden fearful shift back to the opening can’t sabotage the mood completely. Taken together, these two songs form a joint view of the supernatural. “Intermission 3” sets up the mystery of the unknown, the start of “Spooky Action” captures a shocking confrontation with the unexpected and underneath it all, the third panel promises more comforting possibilities. Ultimately, the fear remains with the band unwilling to cocoon themselves away from their unsettling encounter.

While Cleaton certainly drives the punch on “Spooky Action”, his influence feels strongest on “I Like It, I’m Into It”. The heavy track opens with a blend of Thrak-era King Crimson and pulsating acid rock. Stuart Marshall’s drumming is exquisite, providing the perfect framework for the 15/8 grind, then exploding into flamboyance for the turn around breaks. This time, the dynamic drop has its own flavor. The last guitar note hangs while the bass thumps its way through a post punk march. When the guitar joins in, it’s ejected the distortion for a crystalline chime. The piece builds with repetition to wind itself into a classic rock jam and psychedelic lead before closing out on a tightly synchronized finish.

The evocative songs on Spooky Action serve up a stream of surprises, but maintain a coherent sonic aesthetic that finds resonance in such diverse artists as El Ten Eleven, XTC, Robert Fripp, and Black Flag. The bite-sized pieces evolve and develop into fully formed vignettes. It’s no wonder that Stevens and the band are making such a splash on the post-rock scene, with a Limelight nomination this year at Prog Magazine. Surrounded by trivial music, the Fierce And The Dead‘s instrumentals are a bracing tonic.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Music news - Don't take this...

...personally.

Image credit: Open Clip Art Library, care of Wikipedia

Actually, I did take it a little personally. Producer Richard X (M.I.A., Kelis, Sugababes) talked to BBC Newsbeat about music piracy and album leaks. He blamed the problem on rabid fans phishing for pre-release copies of music rather than a sinister pirate cabal.

He shared anecdotes about insidious fans posing as insiders and using social engineering to get early access to albums. But it's interesting to contrast this with another point in the article that mentions the long lead time the labels take to release music.

For my part, I occasionally sense some suspicion when I contact an artist to get a review copy of an upcoming album. I have the advantage of an active review blog to vouch for my identity. But the industry's piracy problem probably affects my odds of success.

The irony, though, is that for all of the music label fear-mongering about album leaks, there are plenty of artists like Jill Sobule, Jonathan Coulton, and Matt Stevens who have been building successful, sustained careers around sharing their music. They may not be operating at the crazy money level that the major labels play at, but they are proof that an artist can connect with fans, satisfy their cravings for fresh music, and still make a living.

A personal note about connection

When I started writing this blog six and a half years ago, it was really just a way to capture the concerts and albums I was enjoying. What started out as fairly brief write-ups blossomed into longer explorations and a huge influx of new music into my iPod.  Eventually, I branched out into playlists and interviews, most creatively with my Mash Up Summit. Over time, I started receiving lots of music submissions that helped me discover a host of great artists whose music has moved me. Many of these people are not as widely known as they deserve or they weren't when I first came across them: Macklemore, Matt Stevens, Team Spirit, Atomga, That 1 Guy, Bike for Three!, Earl Greyhound... there are more than I can count.

Looking back on this run, I am proud of how I've grown as a writer. That said, this blog grew into a second, unpaid job. To be fair, this has really just been a hobby and I've been well aware that there's not any money in this kind of writing. But I've come to ask myself, what do I want to get out of this, beyond the satisfaction of polishing an 800 word essay? Ultimately, I don't think it's money or fame,but engagement. Connecting with fellow music fans and artists would close the loop for me and make it less of a solitary activity. And there are a few musicians that have been responsive, but the truth is that most of my readers are just finding me by when they google some group or album. They drop in, skim my post, and move on. At this point, I get a little over 1000 hits per month and around zero comments. I don't think that's a flaw with me or my readers; it's just the nature of review blogs and the internet.

I want to find a way to forge a connection with people and I'm not convinced that being a critic is the best answer. Other forms of writing may provide a path or I may focus on sharing my own music. In any case, I'm not shutting down Jester Jay Music, but I probably won't be posting music reviews on a regular basis.

Thanks to all of the creative people who have shared their work with me, to David Harris for letting me write and edit for Spectrum Culture, and to the friendly PR people I've met over the years.

Feel free to respond to this with a comment or message, but I'll understand if you don't : -) Cheers!