For those rare fans who may be unaware (pronounced UNA-WARR) , this celebrated instrument combines bass and guitar strings on a single fretboard, offering a multi-dimensional touch instrument, a close cousin of the equally legendary Chapman Stick. Mark Cook has been lugging this gorgeous beast into a variety of musical configurations such as T.A.P., Herd of Instinct, Spoke of Shadows, Liquid Sound Company and Gayle Ellett and the Electromags. Together with Shane Beck (words and voice) with Astral Magic, Talking Clouds etc… and Santtu Laakso (Dark Sun and Astral Magic etc..) on synths, vocals and bass, this trio goes into another realm of inspiration altogether. Soundscape specialist Steven Leak adds the shiny polish to the sonic sculptures, while Shane Beck’s whispered poetry is way more appealing than narration (which I personally find boring) . It insets itself pretty much like an added instrument into the vaporous eddy of synthesized blurs, occasionally infusing clearly sandstorm-like images of golden dunes, coiling cobras and mint tea as on the opener “I Anoint Thee”. A cinematic caravanserai of splendorous filigrees of ‘warrm’ guitar (I can’t help myself), suave bass circumvolutions, and serpentine synthesizers weaving between the percussive procession.
Stretching into a more cosmic and aggressive expanse on the epic “Oblivious”, we dive into a nearly 11-minute journey of subliminal conscience, that is unafraid to use both contrast and shadow, at times reminiscent of the Nik Turner/Hawkwind space explorations we all know and love. Drenched in dripping psychedelia, muscularly propelled by some meaty undertones of rhythmic fortitude, the synthesized psychosis gripping the galactic senses and never letting go. Floating and tethered to the station, astronaut Beck reflects on his out of body experience, a tremendous exhilaration at the thought of returning ‘home’.
Complete change of mood and pace on the fluttering “Time to Sigh”, a perfect parachute landing into a pastoral field of blooming tulips, caressed by glowing sunshine, peacefully welcoming the return to the good earth. The fretless bass is a master stroke of rubbery attraction, swerving with purpose and sensation, elevating the need to breathe in the air. Intricate and hypnotically tantalizing piece of music.
Another leap of faith, a desperate desire to bond with some semblance of reality is to be found on “Striving to Connect”, a penetrating ‘full circle’ groove is established on which the rhythmic foundation can flourish, emanations of David Sylvian’s more exploratory discography comes to mind, a lavish electronic hush that shows stunning restraint as the wobbly bass guitar dances with the now singing vocals (Santtu?). Meticulously played and profoundly stunning.
Asking me the following question “Do You Listen to the Wind “ is quite the irony as the final and only answer becomes immediate : one of my all-time favorite albums is Caravanserai by Santana, containing the masterpiece “ Song of the Wind”. Go give it a listen and you too will listen to the wind. Much like a khamsin sandstorm period, this wallowing piece travels straight into darker Porcupine Tree dominions, ominous drum configurations clashing with resolute bass persistence, forcing one to close the eyes and steer with its ears in the howling gale. Unmistakably Saharan atmosphere but a blustery one, as if the Egyptian deity Set decided to show its frightening power of chaos and redefining the geography of the desert within a sweeping instant.
The title track recalls the Nik Turner feel, an uncomplicated electronic soundscape where strained synths weld with echoing words, instantly magnetic and utterly compelling, a tingling guitar riff in the background providing the tempo. The sizzling guitar solo is a highlight, surely the more approachable track on this album, not that the rest dares to complicate things needlessly.
“Waving at the Stars” is the proverbial bonus track and as such, has the merits of being in a slightly different style, a straightforward arrangement that keeps things basic, a sort of segue to the previous offering. The insistent ramble in the mid-section infuses an e-piano sounding motif as well as a simple Frippian guitar rant , while Santtu catapults his synths into an otherworldly galaxy of asteroids.
Like with all releases associated with Mark Cook, this is once again another winner, cleverly unique with the spoken word element and therefore, a possible furthering of this concept in the future. I would welcome another chapter to feed my soul.
4.5 chariot wheels
