This CD is a worthy successor to
Instrumentals, the inaugural 2002 release from
Nels Cline's working trio, which features
Devin Hoff on contrabass and
Scott Amendola on drums, percussion, and live
electronics. As before, the mix is wildly eclectic, with
Cline not only having his way with electric guitars and various effects boxes but also demonstrating a sympathetic grasp of disparate musical styles, including
thrash/
punk, lyrical
mainstream jazz, and
avant-garde experimentation. The witty, erudite
Cline (who also writes great liner notes, by the way) isn't just going through the motions here, doing the survey thing and self-consciously displaying either his chops or his ability to name-check as many genres as possible. There's too much palpable joy (and pathos) in his playing to categorize his efforts as a mere exercise of musical one-upmanship. When he opens with
"Blues, Too," a delicate homage to mainstream guitar master
Jim Hall,
Cline's respect for and appreciation of
Hall is clearly genuine. And when he moves from the opening track to the occasionally outrageous noisefest of
"Fly, Fly," trading fours and eights with drummer
Amendola and coaxing sounds from the guitar that will make small animals run for cover, he wholeheartedly embraces the role of
metal-shredder supremo. The hushed, somewhat abstract lyricism of pieces like
"Bright Moon" comes closest to a delicate
chamber jazz sound favored by the
ECM record label, with thoughtful interaction among the three trio members and
Cline's limpid, crystal-clear lines bringing to mind both
Jim Hall and the more contemporary
Pat Metheny. The closing track,
"Watch Over Us," adds a discrete touch of celeste and harmonium, and a deep, thoughtful solo from
Hoff. It communicates a sense of hushed reverence. But the three most striking pieces on the CD feature heavy, rhythmic chording and spiky, dissonant energy that veer more in the direction of
Sonic Youth than
Metheny or
Hall.
"Square King" is, as
Cline puts it, a "barn burner," and the heavy wall of pensive riffage throughout
"He Still Carries a Torch for Her" is set off against interludes during which
Cline conducts musical lab experiments over
Amendola's stark, tribal thumping. Still, the most powerful and moving piece on this fine CD is
"Something About David H.," Cline's elegy to a long-dead friend of his youth.
Cline refers to the "deep yet vague emotional baggage" of this unexpected and unsolicited memory, and he presents it as a musical journey in which a quiet, mournful meditation gradually gives way to a grave but insistent seven-note riff. This riff ultimately wrestles the music away from reverie and into an emotional confession of grief and loss that becomes truly cathartic. Not everything in the program carries this kind of emotional freight, but it offers the most dramatic example of
Cline's general ability to synthesize beauty, emotion, intellect, technique, and even humor in his playing. He and his two bandmates truly offer the complete package. ~ Bill Tilland
