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Take yer fav ball o' silly putty and roll it over a sound/style image of chops a la Allan Holdsworth, Scott Henderson, Alex MacHacek, Joe Satriani, and snippets of Robert “the math-rock, monsieur Roboto” Fripp and squash out a nice distorto reprinted mosaic riffage picture of Michelena's multi-instrumentalist expertise and voicings . . . and you have this release in a nutshell or putty print.
Seriously, a great deal super-duper, quicksilver riffs, frettage and wailings are going down here. There is a variety of hippy-trippy, Euro-cool-techno-futuristic, furious, frenetic, yet laid-back Floydian, “Comfortably Numb”-ish fusion prog guitar and programming inside. Did I mention groovin beats and a unique variety of song flows? Cool acoustic axe work is included too!
Michelena has a new groove here of fresh chops galore but in a package like I haven’t heard in awhile. There’s even that Lost Tribe boogie-yer-bootay thang in places but overall this is avant-fusion, not freeform, but free-for-all fusion, whatever goes be slick. Attaching a post-rock, experimental, technical fusion moniker might work with a nod to Zappa and Vai’s Flexable way of attacking and decimating the expected. Michelena is full of surprises and overflowing with technical prowess. Don’t expect to relax too much nor for too long. This is an “upper” y’all. Recommended for the adventurous folks tired of fuzak.
Track Listing: Artilugio (florilegio Artefactio), I, El Ojo-dido, Song For Bartok, Inside, Twiggy Pig, The Last Dodo Bird, Street Jam (jam-eo En La Calle), Uranus, Final Chat: Colubre
Personnel: Rigel Michelena - electric and steel string axes, keys, sequencing, drum programming, percussion and nearly everything else, Oscar Fanega - bass on 2, 3, 6, 9 and Miguel Blanco - bass on 1, 4, 9 and Yoncarlos Medina - keys on 1, 5, 9 and Javier Saume - drums on 3 and Yudnara De Ridder - vox on 6 and Guillermo Diaz - scatty chat blurbage on 10
Years ago now--in Rhodesia--listening to Voice of America with Willis Conover I heard Bunk Johnson play When The Saints Go Marching In, and Billie Holiday sing Don't Explain. I knew then there was no other life for me than jazz.