concave with edge and ominous and enveloping, digging guitar catches up to the iced-out synth opening while strange hissing breaths and unstuck clacks knacker away without taking any of the guts from the droning body, and like any kind of eruption, background becomes foreground and the whole thing gets chewed up and spun out.
when improvisation empties the need-for-control and dives into the moment there's a chance at tackling and ripping apart readymade-language, and the little pockets between the more together spots get an equal take and can be these beautiful true seconds unfixed and anarchistic and unpatterned. the space may get swallowed up but yr aware of it and the closing-in feeling or philosophical claustrophobic jabs extend beyond the instrument and almost become a mental canvas to collect the storm's strange rains, we can bounce out of our heads or go back inside to try and figure out the performance.
where the pieces start and end show the diversity of technique and free-for-all ability of the instruments' trip and a necessary patience to curl around time and to melt it. guitars and keys, two players, making a racket and telling a story. that feeling-out process is the chiseling form, both in the act and with something to show for it once complete. and this gets transmitted, the recording of the 'one session' goes deep inside twisted and gnarly creation, but can hang back and snake here and there uncommitted and free and tempting. put it all together and you get bang-for-yr-buck destructive chaos with purpose and light winds blowing in a few different directions in a liquid-sounding disseminating sprawl.
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