Chris Forsyth - Live Journal at the Mice Machine VIP Dance Floor (Inunabulum)
Chris Forsyth's musical coat is one of many colors, from the quiet abstraction of early duets with Ernest Diaz-Infante to the creepy, dark ramblings of Peeesseye to the fractured drone of Phantom Limb & Bison. Almost ten years since his first collaborative release, Forsyth has finally issued his solo debut, the verbosely titled Live Journal at the Mice Machine VIP Dance Floor, and, of course, it features a new sound from the Brooklyn guitarist. Forsyth's work has hinted at folk before, and flirted with melody, but rarely in his discography are the two featured as prominently as they are here. Of course, Forsyth doesn't play things completely straight, but the degree to which Live Journal... dips into the pretty, even pastoral, is a bit of a revelation coming from Forsyth.
Performed almost wholly on twelve-string acoustic guitar, Live Journal... is bookended by "Anxious" and "Bones," which were commisioned by Diana Crum in 2007. In each, multi-tracked guitar is layered and blended to create quilts of disorienting sonic intersections. On the former, Forsyth opts for a steadier course, while the latter moves in a patchier fashion, its individual threads widely spaced in opposition to the opener's density. The album's innards are a touch more straightforward, tending to find Forsyth working in folkier territory, with economic performances of solo guitar (and, at times, unobtrusive percussive timekeeping). "Absurdly
Beautiful Kinetics" is a jarring exception, opening with a furious strumming that doesn't let up until nearly halfway through the track. The spartan, rhythmic chords that plod through the rest of the song have the same minimalist underpinnings explored elsewhere on Live Journal..., an album that is based largely on repetition, at times almost relentlessly. Forsyth keeps things moving, though there's little divergence from his well-defined paths.
Anyone who has ever driven through Ohio can attest to the fact that picturesque scenery can lose its luster after a while, and a few of Live Journal...'s tracks might suffer from this same phenomenon. Still, the disc isn't a bore, and on the twelve-minute "Contrarian's Lament," the album's longest (though most satisfying) track, Forsyth stretches things out beautifully, with a stark simplicity that's more babbling brook than storming river, but no less enjoyable for it. It's an alluring composition that belies the tender touch of Forsyth; the cover, reminiscient of his homeland's flag echoes the strain of Americana on the track, and the album as a whole. One can't be certain when Forsyth's next solo effort will drop, and given his tendencies its entirely possible that this album might be an anomaly within his discography, but its an unexpected departure to be enjoyed nonetheless.
