Sit

It requires a special mood to partake of a Necks concert.  I had it once before in the Street Theatre and missed it this evening in Holy Trinity.   But it was deeply interesting to see how three very capable musicians can go from nil to intense to nil again over 75mins and be authentic and interesting.  And they were.   I came in 5 mins into the concert, but it was just starting.  No bass yet and sparse piano and African percussion.  Over the next hour the piano went from simple but satisfying major then minor pentatonics, then some inserted semitones and unison octaves and complex minor harmonies.  The drums added steady, regular cymbals and perhaps more, always with that afro percussion and bass went from bowed long notes to immensely busy RH pizz of octave note and joining slides and similar.  Ultimately, all back to nil.  Of course you feel the movements up and down, the changes in harmony and busy-ness and urgency and I was particularly fascinated by the back and forth flow over the underlying movements.  It's a time of envelopment, of engulfment.  It's also a massively successful musical project here and overseas and good on them for that.  I may not have been in that mood that time, but I can only admire the project.

The Necks are Chris Abrahams (piano), Lloyd Swanton (bass) and Tony Buck (drums).

Roil not my ales

They tell me there’s a TV ad for Coopers ales that has the bottles rolled by a bartender before opening. It’s an ill-informed service that I’ve struck several times recently. In my book, rolling just gives you a turbid drink by stirring up the sediments. Sediments are for filtering, not drinking, even if marketing agencies suggest otherwise. I’ll have my bottled-brewed beers unrolled and thus unroiled, thanks. But that’s no comment on the band, Roil, that featured at hellosQuare’s event last night at Street Theatre 2.

Roil is a piano trio comprising Chris Abrahams, pianist of the Necks, with Mike Majkowski and James Waples. This in another band in the free tradition, but considerably different from Chris’ Necks. There’s more a sense of free and other forms of jazz, and avant-guard classical, in this tradition. I was most taken with some passages that developed as highlights, where Chris was playing fast and extended atonal runs, against a rapid, almost walking, similarly atonal bass and a busy drum feel. But there was plenty of searching with quiet music and big ears and unconventional use of the instruments, too. Mike leaning over the bass, bouncing dowels off strings or tapping the bass body or strings, or plucking strings below the bridge. Chris doing similarly unconventional things, playing with exposed hammers and strings on an upright Yamaha. But he also played conventionally, and it was a delight: winsome lines, light, playful, mobile in harmony and gingerly in melody. The Yamaha upright sounded wonderful with his gentle touch in conventional styles. James seemed generally more conventional in technique, but I loved some of his strongly syncopated, even delayed beats that had me hanging in anticipation. They played three numbers which I noticed were introduced by the three members in turn. Chris started the first tune, then Mike, then Ben, so although there were no composers, you could identify someone for the initial concept. It was a fabulous display of excellent musicianship all round, terrific listening and inventiveness, and an inspiration to visit the world of truly free but profoundly educated improvisation. A stunner. BTW, my preferred definition of “roil (v.)” for this purpose is “make turbid by stirring up the sediments of”, from Princeton’s Wordnet. Roil: it fits the band perfectly (but not the ales).

Preceding Roil were two solo artists in the electronica field. Firstly Tim Dwyer appeared as ///âÂ?²âÂ?²âÂ?²\\\ with “dubbed out garage drone-tones”. It’s pretty new to me as a performance art, although I’ve heard this type of music on radio. I liked it. It’s got beats (rather than a groove) although I only noticed 4/4 rhythms; it’s got visuals with a projection screen for computer graphics; it’s got movement and chutzpah. Technically, it’s got loops and echoes and effects, simple keyboard lines and alto sax, and with recurrent vocal utterances. He presented in a matey, jokey, baseball cappy way that didn’t exude seriousness, but I liked it. The second presentation was by Robert Curvengen, resident of Germany and Northern Territory. This was a different approach using different technology: a calm, murmuring study of natural sounds; a constantly mutating mix of drones and various natural sounds played from three CD players and two turntables and carefully blended. It was mysterious and constant and only slowly changing, so a click or pop from the turntables (something despised in pre-digital days) or a similar forest snap or insect crackle from a CD was an essential statement. I found it mesmerising if a bit long, but I’m not an afficionado. A mate with these musical interests was impressed. It ended unexpectedly with a blown fuse, sadly for Robert.

So, a fascinating visit to other fields of music. I enjoyed the electronica, if that’s what these were, but I was blown out by the skills and detail of Roil: just fabulous. Their obvious high spirits after the set confirmed it as a successful performance. BTW, I was recording, so hopefully it will make it to ArtSound’s Friday Night Live sometime.

Roil is Chris Abrahams (piano), Mike Majkowski (bassist) and James Waples (drums). Tim Dwyer and by Robert Curvengen performed solo sets. HellosQuare Recordings promoted the event and are promoting more in coming months. Keep an eye on CJCalendar and arrive early. This was a well-deserved sellout.

Ambient resonance

The Necks are jazz players, but what they perform is a haunting, mesmeric, hypnotic form of ambient soundscaping that breaks from traditions and audience to find new sounds and new devotees. These guys have become stars, with international acclaim and numerous CDs to their name.

I knew something of what to expect when I attended. I’d heard some Necks on CD, and watched a TV broadcast of a set, and for what it’s worth, had seen Lloyd Swanton several times in other incarnations. The Necks were a favourite of a post-seminary sax player I once knew, but I’d found them too macrocosmic or ecospheric for my philosophically materialist tastes. After two sets, I was much impressed, if not a spiritual convert. In the end, art’s still a matter of taste, but this was deeply intriguing stuff.

The Necks are a piano trio, but not a common one. Most obviously, each set was a long, apparently free, improvisation. From the start, I noticed the regularity and precision of the minimal bass riff over long repetitions: none too easy to achieve. And the busy and repetitive scalar runs on the piano. The tune developed as four chords against a bass pedal, initially in 4/4 with some simple bass syncopation. The drums took a while to join in (nothing happens too suddenly here), then a busy bass drum which felt like it was expressing a melody, but there was none elsewhere. All the while, I was being lured, siren like, into this growing maelstrom of restrained tension. Then there were voices, but no singers, and strings, but there were none. Where were these sounds from? I listened, but still couldn’t find the source. (In the foyer at the interval, someone suggested recordings, but I trusted the players more than that). Sometimes I could pick a busy high-pitched piano pattern with softly, softly attack which formed the mysterious tonality. Another time, I realised it was a tapped bass E string, played while Lloyd was otherwise bowing. But oftentimes, these sounds were quite undiscoverable. The piano had dissolved into attack-free tonalities: sometimes organic; sometimes unearthly, synthetic, like orchestration for ‘50s sci-fi movies. In the end, I put it down to resonances, primarily in the piano, a big, hefty grand which presumably resonates richly. The intensity and busy-ness was there to create resonances, and the level was sufficiently low to hear them. Listening on, we were in 6/4, with a hornet’s nest of buzzing, beating regularity. There had been change, but who’d noticed? This was minimal, but ambient more than minimalist; I expected maybe Philp Glass arpeggiation, but this was more scalar; not chordal, although there were repeating, simple, disguised chord patterns accompanied by bass pedals. And no melody at all that I could hear. The second set had similar intellectual and emotional responses. The bass was bowed; the drums more rattled; the piano sounds were repeated, this time hinting at your first explorations of endless loops and echo units with a call and response theme on piano. The sound grew in intensity and volume, then receded to end after another hypnotic hour. Hour? Yep. This one seemed shorter; the audience seemed more attuned. As I left, someone commented that he’d wanted to laugh with “sensory overload”. His girlfriend admonished him.

Not jazz like I know, but performed by capable players. All listening: no visual cues in sight. Ambient and minimal; hypnotic and attractive; mysterious and tonally deceptive; beautiful and even refreshing. Many would say spiritual (a hackneyed and misused adjective). Ambient is not something I’d choose every night, but The Necks were engrossing and satisfying and much recommended.

The Necks are Lloyd Swanton (bass), Chris Abrahams (piano) and Tony Buck (drums).