Izititiz - Lucky Bird
(Sound@One)
Izititiz consists of James Duncan (Metro Area) on trumpet, Matt Heyner (No Neck Blues Band) on double bass, Ras Moshe (Music Now) on reeds, Carter Thornton (Enos Slaughter/Zashiki-Warashi) on guitar, and Jesse Wallace on drums (or crate, according to the illustrations in the slipcase). This is apparently a concept album of sorts, according to the press release: "The music is envisioned as a soundtrack to the story of a manimal drummer's search for a mythic box of Cuban Jade hidden in a paper bag. Along the way he meets a pigeon named Lucky Bird with whom he shares an affinity for dancing around socks to drum solos." This improvisational group offered some choice cuts on their S@1 LP, With Our With Jazz, and the follow-up proves to be a tasty slice as well.
The album begins with electric guitar and double bass slow-dancing with one another on "Arenius I" as the sax walks around the perimeter awaiting its chance to cut in. There's a brief pause before the sax suddenly lights up full-on, the drums skittering along haphazardly, the bass plunking dual thickness underneath the fray. The bass carries the song to a fade with graceful note selection. "Arenius II" initiates with horns at work over a seemingly muted guitar, the trumpet and sax sharing equal weight with the bass, trying to establish patterns or shapes to share. When the guitar continually strikes the same note, the brass instruments go freer still, running even higher in their respective registers to usher in a more chaotic amble to the fading finish. "Arenius III" picks up where the last installment left off, pausing as the trumpet displays restraint by squealing half-heartedly, while tambourine and maracas give way to flute and possibly kazoo for a more placid passage. The flute and trumpet pass melodies back and forth like notes in study hall, as if responding to the query "do you like the way this melody sounds yes or no circle one." The last section of this suite is "Arenius IV (the whale)," and it opens with a trumpet solo over a bowed bass drone that builds in the background. The sax joins in to push the trumpet higher before the drums kick in and send the two horns into a frenzy. The action heats up about five minutes in as the drums turn into a torrent of splashing and smacking, the brass bleating to meet the maelstrom head-on, the bass thundering lower than the band's recording setup can apparently detect. This is one moment where the limitation of the chosen media is demonstrated, along with the constant hiss of an analog deck that is easily dismissed once the music is in motion. A brief drum solo follows that halts abruptly when the bass and guitar enter the foray once more to signal a swift finale.
The 20-minute epic "Blues" kicks off with guitar noodling before the rest of the ensemble offers assistance and settles into a sauntering groove, then jettisons ahead to a more forceful bop-swing. The guitar cuts a rug while the sax wails from all angles, pushing the bass into more sporadic territory while the drums ground the entire excursion. The lengthy improv blasts into high gear near the halfway mark, eschewing any reservations in favor of all-out skronk and noise, only shifting down long enough to give the sax a lead while the guitar chuckles chunks of grit into the mix. The tune ends with the guit cranking and churning as the bass stands by, awaiting an opportunity to interject in kind. "MAN" might very well be a compendium of mankind's existence, beginning with the most basic and primitive sounds of tapping on various objects. Soon maracas and cymbals stir and settle, becoming increasingly complex—a full-scale drum assault that shambles in a ritualistic way. Rhythms thump and pound, gaining in intensity and retreating into caves just as quickly. These rhythms are whittled down to a single beat and then explode once more with howls, shouts, and screams fuelling the fire from within. As mankind presumably achieves domestication, the shouts become a more organized call-and-response chant, with the percussive element ever-present throughout. Slowly, the drums unwind; wind chimes are cued; evolution ceases for the Neanderthal.
The final track, "Lucky Bird" itself, shows a flair for synth keyboard fun, toying with tones and beats as the group attempts to get a feel for the task at hand. The chimes are present once more, and the synthesizer trickery gets more abstract as the bass drum keeps a steady thud. About five minutes in, the song splits right in half, panning both channels before drifting back together into a miasma of changes. Voices are employed as tools of drone, and the sax lifts and subsides in accordance with the varying volumes. The voices then switch to near-comical silliness before the final fade cuts it all off, leaving the audience to wonder whether or not the manimal—or the pigeon—ever made it home.
|
