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Motor Ghost, "A Gold Chain Round Her Breast"
Motor Ghost consists of Alex Neilson and Ben Reynolds and this limited edition LP is their first recording. It is an impressive document; their playing is challenging and full of life. A Gold Chain Round Her Breast is not always my cup of tea but it is captivating and surprising in equal measure. Most of the pieces sound much larger than a two piece, both musicians being highly adept at what they do means that they avoid the usual thinness of a guitar and drums duo.
Dancing Wayang
Neilson has been grabbing my attention with his stints with Jandek and Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, two artists that his style fits in with snugly. A Gold Chain Round Her Breast is my first chance to hear him play his own music (well not entirely his own but he has far more of a creative input here than he does drumming for other artists). Here he has a lot more freedom to express himself and his drumming is the main draw on most of the tracks. Reynolds is not too far off himself, his guitar is one part blues ecstasy and ten parts circular saw.
The improvisations are richly colored, neither player encroaches on the other's space. They instead fill out the piece with their own hues and shades. At times it sounds like neither musician is listening to the other but they know what the other is feeling. It does not always gel together, on "Tremble" there are a few moments when it sounds like the music is going to spin off its axis but they always regain their composure. It is these moments that show off the power of improvisation, it is dangerous sounding and as Blixa Bargeld puts it: "There's no beauty without danger."
On "My Dancing Day" Reynolds switches to acoustic guitar which suits his style of playing far better than the electric. This brings side A to a stunning close, his fretwork comes to the foreground while Neilson's drumming becomes blurred, almost like a sandstorm hitting the drum kit. Turning the LP over, my ears are greeted with the furious sounding "Golden Promise." The spacious improvisations that have preceded it seem like distant memories as this piece thunders around the room, one of the players adding the dümuk to the instrumentation. The cornet-like tone of this instrument sounds hysterical (in a manic sense as opposed to hysterically funny) next to the drums and guitar.
The album spins to a close with something completely different. After nearly two sides of frenetic instrumental music, Motor Ghost dispense totally with their weapons of choice and instead opt for a bout of a cappella folk singing. "Leaves of Life" is a haunting song drenched in reverb, its lyrics set based around the crucifixion of Christ. Neilson alone sings, his voice sounding much older than I was expecting, the pain of the song creeps into his singing. On this note, the adrenaline rush of the rest of the album evaporates and the sound of the needle running off the groove sounds a lot sadder than it ever has. It is a startlingly gorgeous end to a good but thorny album.
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