Playfield: Magic Heart

Daniel Carter, who—if not the epitome of free consciousness then is very well within the immediate vicinity of striking range—gives props to electric Miles Davis and The Beatles' psychedelica with mischief and madness on the hell bent and heaven sent Magic Heart.

Their second entrance into the Carter's life long discography, Playfield is a true Carter collective: intuitively passing the torch from vocalist Luisa Muhr, to Ayumi Ishito, tenor sax and electronics, pianist Eric Plaks, guitarists/electronics Aron Namenwirth and Yutaka Takahashi, wiry bassist Zachary Swanson and the equally ambidextrous drummer Jon Panikkar.

"Miracle," the opening discourse of Magic Heart, wanders, unites, breaks away, and returns to something differently familiar; vague but light hearted. Guitars swash and swoosh and the horns make the bop roll all over the hopped up evolver "Magic Tree." Muhr starts scatting (or speaking in tongues, take your pick) and the band goes dance band when . . . the fog sets in and a lonely tugboat whistle sets the stage for Carter's flute to resonate off. Then the music flails. Gloriously, "Hardcore Orange Eyelids Of The Sun" goes full bore Yoko Ono circa The Plastic Ono Band circa 1970-71. So the ensuing racket is as impeccable and impossible as can be imagined.

With all of the above sworn into testimony, it may just be best to say that Magic Heart captures both the attention and the imagination, which leaves the possible wide open. Something very few contemporary objects can claim.