Look, with a name like this, the
astronomy metaphors are going to flow easily. I’m often drawn to the
psychedelic side of jazz I like to call “space music”—Sun Ra, ’70s Miles Davis,
and anything remotely similar, right up to Kamasi Washington—but the Comet Is
Coming seems like they’re actually trying to simulate an interstellar voyage.
Their 2016 debut, Channel the Spirits,
sounded like a rocket-fuelled thrill ride outside the atmosphere; this record
is the sound of floating in space, with the odd asteroid belt throwing a few
bumps into your path.
The Comet is Coming is led by
saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings, a leading light of Britain’s fertile jazz scene;
he also fronts the fiercely funky, two-drummers-and-a-tuba-driven Sons of Kemet
and has a South African project called the Ancestors. He doesn’t work with
half-assed drummers, and Max “Betamax Killer” Hallett is ferocious here.
Keyboardist Dan Leavers unleashes waves of spacey synths that put every song
into sci-fi territory, and not just the ones with titles like “Astral Flying”
or “The Universe Wakes Up.” Hutchings also breaks out his bass clarinet, which
I haven’t heard him do in his other projects.
“We're exploring new sound worlds and
aiming to destroy all musical ideals which are unfit for our purpose,”
Hutchings once said. With that in mind, the sky is not even
close to being the limit here.
Stream: "Summon the Fire,"
"Super Zodiac," “Astral Flying”
On the more conventional tip, this
Toronto trio centres around Joel Visentin’s Hammond B3 organ, and ride grooves
on the same train as obvious antecedents Jimmy McGriff or the Smiths, Jimmy and
Lonnie. Visentin is a vicious player, one who’s able to unleash top-speed solos
but also lay back to let guitarist Adam Beer-Colacino shine, or guest
saxophonists Alison Young and Kelly Jefferson. Drummer Jeff Halischuk keeps it
clean and tight and funky like he’s sitting behind JB at the Apollo, not JV at
the Rex Hotel. With that calibre of playing, they could easily put their stamp
on just about any material, but they wisely only throw one cover into this
otherwise all-original set: it’s “Chain of Fools,” and they completely make it
their own. There are times when the record slips into Saturday Night Live ’70s house-band territory, but the quality of
chops here is admirably cheese-resistant. Bring us some more of that boogaloo.
Stream: “Slacktivision,”
“Squadzilla,” “Chain of Fools”
Yes, the plastic apocalypse is
coming: to this planet’s oceans, to our landfills, to our own bodies. I’m not
saying we should surrender to our new plastic overlords, but in the meantime at
least Matmos were able to make beautiful music out of this whole mess.
Matmos, if you don’t know, are a
long-running duo who take pleasure in recording tiny, unusual, often
uncomfortable details of modern life (rhinoplastic surgery!) and manipulating
the sounds into music—well, most of the time it’s music. Other times it’s sound
art that’s hard to appreciate more than once. Matmos remain most famous for
working with kindred spirit Bjork on her Vespertine album and tour.
The danger in reviewing a Matmos
album is that you spend more time talking about how they made the record than
the music itself. I purposely chose not to engage in the press materials before
deciding whether or not I was going to celebrate Plastic Anniversary. Decision: on its own musical merits, it’s
worth celebrating.
If you do want to know how they made this record, this is a very entertaining video:
Yes, there are moments when it sounds
like the Blue Man Group and their plastic-pipe percussion. And sure, the song
“Thermoplastic Riot Shield” is abrasively uncomfortable, sounding like the
sound-effects crew on a sci-fi action movie got hopped up on meth and started
making EDM—nothing the most hardcore Aphex Twin fan couldn’t handle. Much of Plastic Anniversary is surprisingly pleasant,
from the ambient ocean waves of “Plastisphere” to the Brazilian rhythms of “Collapse
of the Fourth Kingdom.”
Not that a Matmos record should ever
be judged on how pleasant it is. Their last album, Ultimate Care II, was made utilizing various sounds from a washing
machine, and it worked. But for an act often accused of being cold-bloodedly
obsessed with process and metaphor rather than the actual music, this is
perhaps the most approachable these sound artists have seemed since they had an
Icelandic singer in front of them.
Stream: “Collapse of the Fourth
Kingdom,” “The Crying Pill,” “Fanfare for Polyethylene Waste Containers”
Somewhere
between the pure sound abstractionists and the thump of the dance floor are
artists like Matmos and Toronto’s Jessica Cho, who records and performs as
Korea Town Acid. Her beats rarely stick into a set pattern or go where you
expect them to: they’ll suddenly start stuttering, or a hi-hat will suddenly
leap out of nowhere to the front of the mix. Sometimes a smooth-jazz saxophone
wanders in. Cho could hardly have picked a better name: listening to Korea Town
Acid is a hallucinatory experience, walking through an improvised sound world
of digital debris found on no particular continent, where your focus is
constantly shifting and as various elements mutate and evolve before your ears.
This is a debut record for a relatively new project; excited to hear where else
it goes.
Stream:
“Zoom Lab,” “Mahogani Forest,” “Virtual Reality”
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