Moon-Drenched- Moon-Drenched

 

As a dues paying member of the night owl union to begin with, I definitely am the sort who stays up way too late when I'm unemployed. Thus the last few months I've been acutely aware of the passing of the hours during late nights, as my wife sleeps in the other room, but also of the phases and positions of the moon in the night sky. I know a lot of people consider themselves stargazers, or at the very least will notice the beauty of painterly colors often seen during sunrise and sunset. I currently live in very flat, very rural Northwest Ohio so it's very, very hard to miss these views. All of this said, I think there's a particular sort who actively engage in moon watching, as it were. Weirdos and night owls and insomniacs and addicts, to name a few. While I can't say for sure, I've just never imagined John Dwyer as the kind of guy who wakes up bright and early to go for a jog and is in bed, asleep, by 11 P.M. Listening to things like the first Damaged Bug album and reading the descriptions he gives to his music using phrases like “...the familiar liminal twilight of skittering hues of black-blue...in pursuit of lunar prism beams heretofore unseen...”, I get the sense he's nightkin, too, y'know?

At the very least I'm sure he's had some acid comedown late nights, smoking a joint to ease the long journey into morning as the trip has long since ended yet the brain cells keep pinging off your skull, demanding something by turns eerie and primal and unreal to feast upon. Back in the day, proper non-musical fodder would be called 'midnight movies.' Nowadays I get the sense 'cult movie' is the more common term, though I personally think there's important distinctions between the two as much as the similarities might filter them into the same bubbling brew. I won't spend time here going into these differences, that's for another article. However this does make me think about one film that's always toed the line between 'midnight' and 'cult', The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Perhaps it's all the time I've spent unemployed and drenched in the moon but I've been thinking a lot about this movie recently as I've been trying to find a way to enter the orbit of Moon-Drenched and return with my astronautical findings. Which—and I'm not making this up—has turned out to be pretty serendipitous because the title of today's improv sideproject likely comes from the only released song (in the form of a demo), 'The Moon Drenched Shores Of Transylvania', from the scrapped sequel to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, under the working title Revenge Of The Old Queen.

Maybe I'm wrong and it's just the poverty and insomnia getting the best of my senses. But I'd like to think I'm not. Anyway! To the music, already...

Moon-Drenched was released May 28^th, 2021. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb and say this album might as well be credited to the group Bent Arcana, since it's all the same people (plus one), and some of the songs from this would eventually be performed live under that name. But I'll still consider this its own deal and not the sophomore album by Bent Arcana. Frustratingly, you'll see this album's title with or without the hyphen, though the album's back cover art and stickers/spine clearly have the hyphen, so I'll continue spelling it that way.

Sure sure, I know, I'm the only one who cares, let's move on! Here's the lineup:

John Dwyer- guitar/etc.

Ryan Sawyer- drums

Peter Kerlin- bass

Tomas Dolas- keyboards/synthesizers

Kyp Malone- synthesizer

Ben Boye- Wurlitzer/electric piano

Brad Caulkins- saxophones

Marcos Rodriguez- guitar

Lanea “Geronimo” Myers-Ionita- violin

Andres Renteria- misc. percussion

Joce Soubiran- saxophones

Ben Boye is the new addition to the already established Bent Arcana crew. He's probably best known for playing keyboards with Sun Kil Moon/Mark Kozelek and in Ty Segall's Freedom Band. While I'm not familiar with his work prior to this record, Boye is credited as playing Wurlitzer, and so his contributions are more melodic and lead orientated as compared to the synth abstractions of Tomas Dolas and Kyp Malone.

If Bent Arcana felt a bit tentative and varied in its approach, Moon-Drenched throws down the gauntlet. Despite its lunar title, the record as a whole tends more toward a high energy, high octane approach punctuated by shorter, more abstract tracks. As I alluded to earlier, Moon-Drenched is the perfect soundtrack for that point of a late, late night following an acid trip where you aren't actively tripping anymore but it's rapidly approaching 4 A.M. and your brain is equal parts fried and fully awake. Perhaps you find yourself fixated on existential questions, like, “when, exactly, does the transition from night to morning happen?” or “how late is too early in the morning to eat some ice cream?” You may never find an answer but this record will keep the journey going as it gives you music that is by turns funky and Earth-y, spacey and free-floating, intense and energetic, relaxed and somnambulant.

Overall Moon-Drenched feels like the musicians are playing and interacting in a much more coherent and ever evolving way than on Bent Arcana. I still feel like I can never really hear the violin, making me wish Dwyer had used Myers-Ionita in a different improv group with less players, but otherwise I don't think there's a weak link. The rhythm section has really locked-in together, providing the perfect launchpad for everyone else to play off what they're doing. On 'Der Todesfall' and 'Spoofing', Kerlin's bass finds an interesting phrase and the other players seem to lock in on it and fill in the musculature upon his skeletal ideas. As always when he's involved, though, I think it's Sawyer who steals the show. His subtle, jazzy contributions to 'Get Thee To The Rookery' are the perfect choice to compliment the ghostly void of sounds. 'The War Clock' has to be one of his best performances, ever, a constantly shifting groove that, by itself, justifies the song's almost 13 minute length. With all due respect to the current two drummer lineup of Osees, I'd love to see what the band would sound like with Sawyer taking the rhythmic reins for an album and/or tour.

Perhaps the slimmest moonbeam of a complaint I have is that I think this album is a bit more obvious (perhaps earnest is a better word) about its influences. 'Psychic Liberation' features an edit/transition from an opening spacey section to a band in full-flight set to middle-velocity mode; a minimalist bassline and exploding guitars punctuate the full-group interplay, all in a way that feels right out of Miles Davis's On The Corner playbook. Everyone rightfully picks up on the krautrock influences on these improv records but 'Terra Incognito' absolutely feels like it could've come from the more experimental and abstract edges of Tago Mago or Yeti. Moon-Drenched feels more guitar/jam focused than Bent Arcana and certainly Witch Egg, as a result openly echoing the more jammy end of krautrock, such as heard in Agitation Free and Guru Guru.

How much of an actual issue this is for you will vary. Personally I can't get enough of this stuff, but I do think I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention that there's definitely a precedent for this music; you'll clock it instantly if you're familiar with the chemical compounds and alloys being synthesized and welded together. To be fair, though, this is like docking A Foul Form by Osees because it's a love letter to the punk and hardcore music the band grew up on. Moon-Drenched is inarguably a worthy addition to the jazz-fusion/krautrock/jam pantheon. There's plenty of people out there who will have their first taste of post-acid brain cell ping ponging with this platter, and perhaps seek out the old masters who can further feed your new hunger for this type of aural sustenance. Everything old is new again; the 1970s wave and the current era waves back as we all stare into the night sky, together, across time via the wormhole passageways of mind-bending trips, musical and otherwise.

Endless Garbage- Endless Garbage

 

Though his self titled debut is rightly considered a classic of 1980s jazz, Jaco Pastorius wanted to surprise people with his second solo album, Word Of Mouth. As such he really fought to make the song 'Crisis' the opening track. Though I haven't been able to find a verifiable written source, it's said that he recorded the song by keeping each musician in somewhat isolation from the others, fading in and out the ever-evolving track so that no musician was truly playing along with all of the others at any given time. Jaco was not particularly thought of as being part of the avant garde or free sides of jazz, so 'Crisis' was forefronted to demonstrate that artists are rarely just one thing. Personally I always took its spotlight placement on Word Of Mouth as a statement of purpose, to show fans and critics that he wasn't just the smooth sounding fusion guy who was a lynchpin of Weather Report and some of Joni Mitchell's best jazz-leaning music. What, then, do I make of the title of John Dwyer's Endless Garbage sideproject and its placement smack dab in the middle of the improv album run? Well, as we'll see in a bit, he himself explains the moniker pretty poetically, so I won't bother. As for the placement, hmmmm...It honestly isn't as important as what the album itself is telling us about his music world: All along, I was never as basic as all those garage rock albums made you think.

Released March 19th, 2021, Endless Garbage was recorded under very different circumstances than the rest of the slate of improv albums. It's inarguably the most pure improv record of them all, by which I mean the songs were completely played with no guiding principles, and other than Dwyer (who edited it together) all they could hear was the drummer, who himself wasn't involved at all beyond providing the initial spark and percussive bedrock. Since I really enjoy his writing, perhaps I should just let Dwyer himself explain. According to the press blurb for the release, it came about like this:

“...[O]ne day, I hear a frenetic, free drummer playing in his garage a few blocks from me. And I think “interesting”. I stand outside his garage staring at the wall, like a fool, for a minute, then decide to leave a note on the car parked there. This is how I ended up meeting and working with Ted Byrnes. He wasn’t creeped out, and he ended up sending me a pile of truly spontaneous drums recordings from the carport to work with. I decided to have every musician come in one at at time and just take a wild pass at their track over the drums. None of these people had ever met or played together. I was the connecting thread. I scratched the surface...but soon realized I would need heavy hitters to make this place habitable...After I spent a bit of time mixing and editing this down to a palatable offering I couldn’t help but think about human consumption. Our limitless need for material possession, for emotional acknowledgment, for as much information to be thrown in our faces in our very short time here on this mortal coil...We leave behind us a wake of destruction. Of course, there are moments of great beauty, ingenuity and compassion along the way. You just have to know where to look. Thus, “Endless Garbage” seemed a fitting title. A cacophonous and glorious sketch of ourselves.”

Anyway, here's the lineup:

John Dwyer- guitar and a bunch more

Ted Byrnes- drums/misc. percussion

Greg Coates- bass

Tomas Dolas- keyboards/synthesizers

Brad Caulkins- saxophones

The only person we haven't seen yet in a previous sideproject is the crucial element, Ted Byrnes. A prolific solo artist and musical collaborator, his website and social media are pretty interesting and some video clips show him experimenting with non traditional instruments. In one performance he is literally playing in and on a stairwell. This makes a lot of sense given that I would describe his style on Endless Garbage as sounding like a free jazz drummer hopped up on caffeine determined to hit every single drum and surface in his house every few seconds, over and over, in a rollicking, continuous clatter. It's the sort of thing you're either going to dig and find intriguing or absolutely hate, and you better get used to it because it's most of what's going on here. Suffice it to say, though, that he isn't going too out there with the textures, so unlike the aforementioned videos you won't be listening to a man play a metal staircase handrail, broken pieces of glass, random metal dishware and, um, a pinecone and an incense holder. I feel like I've either done too many drugs or not enough to 'get' his more junkyard-derived playing, if I'm being honest, but it sure is...something.

More than any other record in his discography outside of the very first OCS release and the Sword & Sandals sideproject, Endless Garbage—like Jaco's 'Crisis'—shows John Dwyer's affinity for the experimental and free/out avenues of music. In its chaos and push-pull between melody-less instrumental texture, its rhythm-less drumming/percussion, its edited layers of sound sculpted to an extent by him, it shows that the improv sideprojects and the Panther Rotate remix album helmed by Dwyer aren't the outliers they initially appeared to be. That said, even more than Sword & Sandals, Endless Garbage is a genre-less exercise in pure sound and experimentation. One can relate something like Sword & Sandals to classic 1960s/70s free jazz/avant garde, but comparing Endless Garbage to even the most 'out' moments of a jazz group like Art Ensemble Of Chicago or live improvisations by Henry Cow and King Crimson doesn't quite cover all the gene sequences, so to speak.

I think we're getting there, though.

Let's further consider 'extreme' music I've explored in the past, unique albums that only partly conform to any strictures or genre conventions, like John Zorn's Spy Vs. Spy: The Music Of Ornette Coleman (free jazz/hardcore punk), Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music (noise/drone), and Autechre's glitchy, enigmatic Confield (IDM/experimental). Ah, but still not quite on the nose enough to fully explain what Endless Garbage is without hearing it for yourself. And maybe that's just it...If anything this record reminds me more of pure free-improv and pure-experimental music, completely untethered to any particular genre, the stuff that writing alone can't come close to capturing. Kissing cousin records that I also find exceedingly difficult to readily define (as I do Endless Garbage) would be things like AMM's AMMMusic, Fred Frith's Guitar Solos, some of Nels Cline's work outside of Wilco but especially Destroy All Nels Cline, the two albums by Don Caballero offshoot Storm & Stress, and, of course, Singable Songs For The Very Young by Raffi.

Maybe rather than try to define what Endless Garbage is, precisely, let's just take a swim in it. 'Vertical Infinity' starts things off, immediately setting the table with Ted Byrnes's clattering everything-and-the-kitchen-sink free drumming. Dwyer pokes around the margins with noodling guitar lines, all while Greg Coates tries to offer any kind of foundational rhythm or melody. A very overt deep breath opens 'No Flutter', which pours on the saxophones and has more of a breathing, droney feel to it before suddenly bursting into 'Goose.' This track sees Byrnes taking the forefront with an especially chaotic solo performance before blurting keyboards increasingly penetrate the dense layer of percussive clutter, giving way to a peaceful drone around the 1:30 mark. The accurately named 'Four' follows, all players seemingly blowing their brains out, including some fluttering flute in the background and a wah-wah pedal coated sax. Side B comes roaring in with 'Lucky You', sounding much like how Side A began, though Coates's booming bass repetitions create a much welcomed pulse to power the circulatory system of the eerie chaos going on, including indistinct vocals/spoken word.

'Pro-Death' never gels into anything memorably different from the rest; it could use something to set it apart on an already short and also-short-on-ideas album. This really undermines how the process used to make this record never creates chance moments of serendipitous synchronization, instead resulting in music that sounds like what it was: completely disconnected musicians improvising freely to already-recorded drumming, with no awareness of each other's playing (other than the glue that is John Dwyer holding/editing it all together). Even he can't seem to make much sense, or interesting nonsense, out of 'Pro-Death.' Things get a bit back on track with 'A Grotesque Display' thanks to the vaguely psychedelic effects processing on some of the instruments. Endless Garbage lets off the gas with the five minute closer 'No Goodbyes', fed by pretty keyboard lines, which is a bit more relaxed in its chaos. Coates attempts to stir up some excitement on bass with a energetic melody around the 3:30 mark but since only Dwyer could hear this, only he can respond with a short lived guitar interjection before we go back to the usual playbook—in other words, formless folderol.

Maybe that should've been the title.

If I am sounding a bit critical and unimpressed, I don't intend to. I'm not so sure Endless Garbage is the sort of record you can really rate or recommend anyway. What I mean is, like the aforementioned records I also find indescribable, I feel like I seek out these extreme fringes of music when I need something to really shake my world up, to give me something new and beyond the usual parameters. It's the same reason people watch weird ass movies like The Holy Mountain. You don't watch it to decide if you enjoy it or don't enjoy it, but to think about and react to something in a pure way that eludes the standard, established vocabulary used to discuss the artform. I remember once showing various clips of that movie to a longtime friend and I think it freaked him out. Likewise I am sure Endless Garbage would lead him to declare “yeah that album title sure is accurate” in a definite, dismissive way. This isn't some elitist art snob slam on him, or anyone who doesn't like what they're experiencing. I guess what I am ultimately trying to say is, you probably already know if something like Endless Garbage or The Holy Mountain is for you. Like me, you may also occasionally want to seek out things you can't easily digest, let alone explain. You may not listen to this album too often, but it'll always be there to re-open the seams of your musical mind palace and allow you to pierce the veil of the mirror held up to you and your established knowledge. There's that famous and famously overused Nietzsche quote about gazing into the abyss and it gazing back...but I don't think Endless Garbage is at all about that negation or annihilation, that evil corruption of the self by an outside/other. Rather it is, to quote Dwyer, there for you to “experience a cacophonous and glorious sketch of ourselves.”