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It's rare that a group of musicians can start crafting a score for a movie about a famed clay animator, braving new territory musically in the process, and end up with an album that transcends every move they've made in the past. That it comes from Shark Quest is no real surprise, as they've been wowing audiences in/outside of their native North Carolina towns for almost a decade. The resulting music is an amalgamation of styles and features the band's first use with piano, synthesizers, and various types of unique percussion.
 
It's a particularly interesting ride as the album progresses, and the new choices bolster their typically schizophrenic shifts with new languages to draw from. This near-Faustian music experience started as songs for a documentary about Bruce Bickford by some other Carolina natives, and the band re-worked their sketches to fit into timed segments in the film. The songs stand on their own just fine, but listening to them it is easy to envision the master hard at work on his clay creations, and then see the lifeforms themselves come to life off the table and go to play in a whole new universe created just for them. Guitars frolic and roll over playful melodies, the percussion breathes a rhythm that summons all to follow like a monarch, and suddenly it's a world music festival better than any ever imagined. The seven-minute opener "The Rosetta Barrage" is perfect: showing a taste of the licks and chops while shifting style and rhythm internally for a mandolin break, then re-coagulating for the climactic conclusion. "Sin the Moon" heads into surf guitar territory with a gentle progression, and retreats for the same kind of reprieve with dueling guitars. Before long the mix is full of so many sounds you could almost go for a swim in the air. There's somber moments, livelier moments, and a touch of bombast, but for the most part these songs are just right, with variety in spades and a high listen again quotient. As much an adventure as it was to make comes through in the speakers, and takes anyone who listens along for the ride.
samples:
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- Drew Wright
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EHC started, essentially, as a casual outlet for an undefined number of active, Boston-area musicians. Boasting current and former members of the Thalia Zedek band, Willard Grant Conspiracy, The New Year, Molasses, and even Godspeed You Black Emperor, EHC enjoyed a humble genesis, organizing around brunch dates at the home of central member David Michael Curry. Since 1997, the group has attracted over 30 contributors in the creation of moody, improvisational music that bridges the gap between the potent emotional directness of its parent groups and the recklessness and vulnerability of the live setting.Sedimental
This session, selected from the many hours of EHC tape archives, is a particularly melancholic trio performance from 2000 featuring Boston guitar-champion Chris Brokaw, cellist Jonah Sacks, and Curry, who plays primarily viola, but contributes splashes of horn, guitar and live sampling to round out what is still a rather sparse affair. Curry's viola owns each of these six extended pieces, and his style will be familiar to fans of The Dirty Three or Godspeed, with enough of a studied, melodic base to cover for his frequent drifts into trance oblivion. He sets himself apart by rarely locking into a repeating structure or calling on too "easy" or explicitly emotive phrases. Brokaw's and Sacks' strings make up a grounding layer of droning interplay, a seamless shuffle between quietly plucked harmonics, tempered feedback, and swooning runs that rise to match Curry's more exultant moments.
The songs borrow from the drifting, autumnal chamber style of Willard Grant, and from Godspeed's anthemic surging, but any references are never more than suggestions in the music, its intimate character leading always back to an unpredictable present. EHC's improvised doctrine places them in a territory as complex and difficult-to-reduce as anything I've heard from their closest comparisons. The feeling, throughout this disc, is an ultimate trust in the players' intuition, and when a track ends, miles away from where it began, never does a certain section feel neglected or the song led through aimless motions. This is a record for the new winter mornings, a treasure of golden amplification, rich string resonance, and playing that is powerful without wearing out its welcome; my hope is only that this debut signals more to come from what is surely an impressive stockpile of recordings.
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Jason Amm wants me to believe that there is some heart to be found left behind in the 1980s and that it can be transformed and shaped into a potent stew of consistent and modern excellence. I don't believe him entirely. There's plenty of good music to be found on Amm's latest; a few tracks stand head and shoulders above the rest, though, and this makes it an uneven album. The bad that comes with the good is annoyingly bad. The worst tracks are a reminder of how stale and mechanical music can be.
Paradoxically, the same mechanical processes that make certain tracks dull and lifeless are responsible for making others irresistibly addictive. The first three songs are steeped in the shimmer and cleanliness of trumpet-like keyboards and rumbling bass lines that stutter along like the white lines on a highway. "Operating Ease" and "My Radio" are catchy and they stand the test of repeated listens without fail. Unfortunately the next five and a half minutes suck all the vigor and propulsion right out of what the previous two songs had worked so hard to cultivate. It isn't until the darkly attractive "Think Like Us" kicks in that the album retains any amount of momentum. The grey area in between is a bit too sterile to be worthwhile and when a track such as "Think Like Us" kicks in; it only emphasizes the failings of other, lesser tracks on the album. "Remote Control" and "Instrucograph" just sound like variations on a theme and they take away from the massive piles of funk and groove that are built up and let go of far too quickly. The amorphous "Science with Synthesizers" is the next song on Apples & Synthesizers to evoke any real sense of awe or wonder once "Think Like Us" has ended, but it's the closer that truly comes as a knockout. "Steve Strange" echoes and buzzes steadily under the sirens of various keyboards and interrupting rhythmic textures and does so with no lack of tension. Various synthesizers reverberate and bounce off each other into a myriad of patterns and melodies that make the flat parts of this record seem like bad dreams. I'm a sucker for a good melody, so when Solvent successfully lays out a great song, I'm as hooked as I can be by his songs. The filler material, however, leaves a lot to be desired and at times it simply kills the evocative aura that the great songs produce. 
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