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David Grubbs & Nikos Veliotis, "The Harmless Dust"
I've been a fan of David Grubbs' work for a long time. There'ssomething undeniably unique and appealing about anything with hisinvolvement, perhaps because his involvement always seems so total, notin the sense of out-shadowing his collaborators, but in the wayeverything he's done feels a concise and essential part in adistinctive language of expression.
Headz
Reviews necessarily focus on themany divergences of Grubbs' musical life, and they are correct innoticing that an awareness of the many sides to this round figure isoften the single best lens through which to view a new work. Hisoutput, however overwhelming, benefits from an audience willing andexpecting the continuation, however sluggish, of a vocabulary of soundand image exposing a dramatically under-populated zone of Americana, awashed-out, post-modern collage of homemade minimalism, smart-boy punkwit, and veil of conceptual presentation. Expectations can be a bitch,though, and it's hard sometimes to reconcile looking for immediatecontextual adherence and hearing something new with each release. Thesame is true in reverse, when the music allows no continuingcommunication, but only a reminder of past windfalls. The release Ifind myself returning to these days is a Loren Connors collab., Arborvitae,where Grubbs charged the guitarist's shrub desert of blues scavengesand feedback slivers with the plaintive, deliberate piano of a Europeanmodernist. In comparison Grubbs' new collab. with Nikos Veliotis, The Harmless Dust,doesn't offer anything new, at least within the first of its side-longtracks. Veliotis, the cellist during Grubbs' most recent tour, createsa tilting, layered drone of long notes, segmented by the returnedpiano, though Grubbs' playing seems lazy, even given the nature of thepiece. His chords are dull; their procession does not take up anyprogressive interval; they are almost superfluous here, where withConnors they were brilliant counterpoint. For the other, longer track,Veliotis changes to E-bowed piano, Grubbs to Hammond organ, and thisinstrument might alone be capable of redeeming the record, at least forfans of the drone. I could listen to a Hammond organ drone on forhours; Grubbs gives 24 minutes of coaxed note-holds and releases: slabsof waxy warm noise to which Veliotis' very un-piano constancies occupya background of enigmatic stillness. Grubbs' changes emerge now withclicking and shuddering physicality that surprises since the firsttrack's anxious momentum has subsided. The music of this second partsyncs well with Veliotis' beautiful sleeve design of oxidized andcollaged old photos detailing a forgotten family history in middleAmerica or someplace like it. Unfortunately, the gorgeous design,typical of the Headz label, can't compensate for the music's failure toopen any new vistas in Grubbs' career, and though enjoyable, gooddrones are far too prevalent for me to be excited by this one.
Headz
Reviews necessarily focus on themany divergences of Grubbs' musical life, and they are correct innoticing that an awareness of the many sides to this round figure isoften the single best lens through which to view a new work. Hisoutput, however overwhelming, benefits from an audience willing andexpecting the continuation, however sluggish, of a vocabulary of soundand image exposing a dramatically under-populated zone of Americana, awashed-out, post-modern collage of homemade minimalism, smart-boy punkwit, and veil of conceptual presentation. Expectations can be a bitch,though, and it's hard sometimes to reconcile looking for immediatecontextual adherence and hearing something new with each release. Thesame is true in reverse, when the music allows no continuingcommunication, but only a reminder of past windfalls. The release Ifind myself returning to these days is a Loren Connors collab., Arborvitae,where Grubbs charged the guitarist's shrub desert of blues scavengesand feedback slivers with the plaintive, deliberate piano of a Europeanmodernist. In comparison Grubbs' new collab. with Nikos Veliotis, The Harmless Dust,doesn't offer anything new, at least within the first of its side-longtracks. Veliotis, the cellist during Grubbs' most recent tour, createsa tilting, layered drone of long notes, segmented by the returnedpiano, though Grubbs' playing seems lazy, even given the nature of thepiece. His chords are dull; their procession does not take up anyprogressive interval; they are almost superfluous here, where withConnors they were brilliant counterpoint. For the other, longer track,Veliotis changes to E-bowed piano, Grubbs to Hammond organ, and thisinstrument might alone be capable of redeeming the record, at least forfans of the drone. I could listen to a Hammond organ drone on forhours; Grubbs gives 24 minutes of coaxed note-holds and releases: slabsof waxy warm noise to which Veliotis' very un-piano constancies occupya background of enigmatic stillness. Grubbs' changes emerge now withclicking and shuddering physicality that surprises since the firsttrack's anxious momentum has subsided. The music of this second partsyncs well with Veliotis' beautiful sleeve design of oxidized andcollaged old photos detailing a forgotten family history in middleAmerica or someplace like it. Unfortunately, the gorgeous design,typical of the Headz label, can't compensate for the music's failure toopen any new vistas in Grubbs' career, and though enjoyable, gooddrones are far too prevalent for me to be excited by this one.samples:
