By Nick Metzger
I’m pretty sure the first time I heard Paul Flaherty was on The Hated Music with Chris Corsano back in 2000 on Byron Coley’s Ecstatic Yod label, even though by then Paul had been at it for decades. I bought it because I was really into Corsano and Bill Nace’s Vampire Belt duo, whose hand assembled CDRs of rabid no-wave I still listen to on occasion. I was and am completely blown away by Flaherty and Corsano and have bought just about everything they’ve appeared on together and separately since. Corsano’s duo work with Mette Rasmussen opened the doors for a trio album with Flaherty called Star-Spangled Voltage, where the music became even more complex and intriguing. On Crying in Space the trio is joined by bassist Zach Rowden, whose own duo album with Flaherty As Far As Death was covered by the blog in the spring and was one that I really enjoyed. Rowden adds further texture and density to the mix, a sort of earthly mooring that provides this spaceship crew with a grounding node.
The album opener “The Hesitant Nature of Doubt (Shadow Chase)” begins with a plaintive wailing of the horns, briefly song-like, riding long swells of arco lines and ricocheting percussion. This breaks down into a marvelous bedlam of everyone-at-once dialogue before further coalescing into thoughtful, carefully hewn forms and warm experimentalism. Flaherty barks and howls gruffly, his rolling lines punctuated with squeaks and vocal-like cries. Rasmussen plays in lightning quick bursts, accentuated with circular motifs and bellowing car park honks. Rowden utilizes dark tones both plucked and bowed and provides much of the timbral focus during the quieter moments. Corsano is the glue that holds it all together. His crisp rolls and deft footwork both punctuate and elevate the playing of the quartet. There is no better drummer for this type of music. Rasmussen builds up an extended, subtle and progressing solo melody centered around reed pops to open “What To Expect When Faking Your Own Death” before the rest of the quartet drops in and a parabolic furor ensues. Flaherty’s lines are equally bluesy and screechy atop the quieter portions, tangling with contrabass grima, scattered percussion, and all manner of mouth/bird noises and maybe even some harmonic/melodica(?). The closer “Industrial Sabotage Friday” is the shortest track, comparatively a footnote, but it’s also one of the biggest blowouts on the album. High spirits and high energy to close out the set.
I really enjoyed the rawness of this session, there really isn’t much held back or left unexplored, which I find Flaherty brings out in his co-conspirators. The interplay is excellent, as anticipated based on their shared history. I suppose you could say that this one was a long time in the making, with all the pieces slowly dropping into place over the last 23 years, and it’s well worth your time if you haven’t gotten to it yet. New wrinkles abound with this lineup and the music sounds fresh and inspired. I’ll continue buying everything these musicians drop collectively or otherwise. Another excellent release from Relative Pitch.
1 comments:
An excellent album.
When listening to Flaherty I’m reminded of the artist Francis Bacon’s observation in one of his interviews with David Sylvester, “Some paint comes across directly onto the nervous system and other paint tells you the story in a long diatribe through the brain.” Flaherty has that directness.
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