Dan McCarthy: Songs of the Doomed: Some Jaded, Atavistic Freakout

Songs of the Doomed is, in essence, the love child of self-stylized journalism and outré composition methodologies. Drawing inspiration from the work of Hunter S. Thompson, vibraphonist Dan McCarthy created the gonzo cypher to help translate some of the maverick's writer's lines into tone rows. The rules of serialism then cemented certain things in place while setting the leader and his bandmates on a course to another universe.

Working with a two-guitar quintet, à la mallet great Gary Burton's band immortalized on Ring (ECM, 1974) and Dreams So Real (1976), McCarthy takes a wild ride to the psychedelic side of the modern jazz sphere. Opening on "Morning at Woody Creek," scenes from Thompson's Colorado home are painted with vivid colors on a Jimi Hendrix-esque guitar intro, Then, taking a turn toward the truly dark and dangerous, McCarthy and his quintet mount an attack in the name of the fierce "Hell's Angels." The first of six cypher-based numbers on this 13-track album, that piece proves to be a zany highlight.

Things quickly branch out in different yet related directions as the program continues. McCarthy and his well-matched bandmates —guitarists Don Scott and Luan Phung, bassist Dan Fortin and drummer Ernesto Cervini—move toward more atmospheric terrain on the title track and "Kingdom of Fear." A need for speed proves to be the prime motivation for the "Irresponsible Gibberish" vignette. The band delights in creating a musical parallel to a Dexedrine-fueled dream dance during "We Were Somewhere Around Barstow." A conversation in Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas—specifically a quick back-and-forth about a certain rounded citrus fruit—plays out through two distinct sonic personalities on "What Limes?" And the cypher gifts a notable bass line and three different sections of melody on the skulking-turned-striking "Strange Rumblings in Aztlan."

Moving toward album's end, McCarthy offers a mesmerizing look at "The High-Water Mark," an oddball outing to an "Owl Farm" and the swirling "Gonzo Article #3." Then he briefly leaves originals behind for a subtext-fitting, era-appropriate cover—Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit," featuring vocalist Jenn McCarthy—and closes with "Evening in Woody Creek," reimagining the opener with the whole band in on the action (and an instrument swap between vibraphonist and drummer). Thompson, as noted in William McKeen's liner notes for this project, rarely wrote about music. And music, likewise, hasn't often touched on Thompson. Thankfully, Dan McCarthy has found a wonderfully unconventional way to bring the full artistic scope of the man and his writing into the sonic realm.