The Illinois based-trio had its origins in the 1970s and is steeped within experimental and improvisational factors. Over the years, the musicians have investigated numerous slants, comprising the acoustic-electric element amid heavy-duty and, wily percussion jaunts, evidenced on their exploratory 2009 LP, Turbulent Flesh
. Yet free-expressionism rules the roost within the musicians' core methodology. And they interject moments of humor to complement feisty sojourns into sizzling, hyper-mode free-jazz persuasions.
Featuring Scott Hamill's torrid and squealing, avant-rock electric guitar phrasings, the unit generates an asymmetrical, polytonal feast for the mind's eye. Keyboardist James Day tenders the broad textural components, for a jamboree that sequences an electrified outlook on free-jazz rock and eerily, subversive motifs, marked by nightmarish tonalities. Hence, the artists surge forward with the impetus of a crashing and burning combustion machine. And certain movements are marked by Day's bizarre synths that sometimes conjure up notions of shards of glass, spewing across the studio floor.
Lucid imagery is a key aspect throughout, complemented by drummer Christopher Brown's electronically treated voice overlays. Lined with abstracts, wit and cosmic, ambient-electronic passages, the trio also spawns a vibe that is akin to silvery lights peering though dark skies on the haunting piece "Hint Of Dawn." The musical manifesto offers more than the standard free-form mode of adventurism. At times, the rambunctious performances provide semblances of three-men dodging steel walls, to counter the bizarre solitude of automatons lost at sea. There's more than meets the eye and ears during the preponderance of this wildly inventive program.
Personnel: Christopher Brown: drums, vocals; Scott Hamill: guitars; James Day: keyboards