Medama Records – mr08
Oren Ambarchi’s Black Truffle label coughs up the eighth live document
of his nonpareil trio with the legendary Keiji Haino and Jim O’Rourke.
All considered, these guys are pretty much the tightest/loosest avant
instrumental group out there right now, blessed with a time-and-space
bending dexterity that allows them to fuse some half century of research
in free jazz, out rock and kosmiche electronics into blinding new
forms.
On the A-side they prowl like a pack of predatory animals hunting down a
noble but tired old prey, methodically and precisely attacking and
breaking down the lumbering body of rock music in an increasingly
ferocious whirlwind of fanged guitar slash and tearout percussion until
they’re bathing a strangely tranquil bloodbath. With the B-side they
lock into a martial distortion drill around Ambarchi’s steady, Wold-like
snares rolls and sky-collapsing harmonics with stoically unrelenting
force.
Side C brings the trio at their most abstract, moving from near silence,
perforated only by the shivering chimes of toy piano, spookily signing
into he ether where Haino exclaims in English from somewhere deep in the
unfathomable mix, and O’Rourke petrifies the air with ungodly, alien
EMS synth voices that speak to us in the uncanniest way. All change
again on Side D, as they broach the 4th wold thru some back door
entrance, scanning its undergrowth with Haino’s flute, vox and guitar
urged on by pouring tribal toms until hey lay waste to the scene with
pure guitar napalm.
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