The American band from Chicago is now comprised of Tim McGaskey (guitars) and the world’s most famous furry bassist Luis Nasser are back again at doing what they do best, commenting on the current state of our universe with musical tonalities and profound intentions. New members are vocalist, keyboardist and saxman Steve Katsikas , second guitarist Rich Poston, Thor Bremer on the hammering drumkit , Steve Royce on flute and vocals as well as cellist Dave Keller. The previous 2023 “Whiteout “ was a blizzard of fun, a cosmic cavalcade that kept me firmly in the spirit of the Gong trilogy (and my Nasser-Howlett connection), so I cannot see why this new journey would be any different, unless of course the band decided to try their hand at rap-oriented, raga rock, psychedelic polka fusion with neo-country fluttering and Japanese koto solos. With a bit of mellotron for the spirited boomers like moi! We all have our personal addictions. Luis loves napkins, according to the nurses.
With a title as humorous and evocative as the 8-minute job “Electronic Death Music part 1 “, my vote is already cast without the slightest shred of hesitancy, sounding off on sound design and unsound effects is perfectly alright by me. Kling-klang mementoes from Dusseldorf injects rather immediately into a syncopated enigmatic chamber of collapsable echoes, swirling and twirling machines that dine on Dover ‘soul’ meunière, without the French fascination for shaved amandine. The Poston/McGaskey possessed guitar interplay is priceless, the rhythmic support precise like a computer with a psychedelic silicon chip on its shoulder. I die every night only to wake up fully refreshed!
The creepy crawler “Patient Spider” weaves an indestructible web, mostly woven by the wandering Luis the mad scientist (he is one actually), the electric guitars doing their best to criss and cross against the flow of normal traffic, causing all kinds of kerfuffle (I have not used that word in decades!). The spooky vocals are Halloween-esque (‘tis the time of the season), the flute and acoustic guitars emitting a serenity that collides nicely with the ominous and shadowy undertow, ‘hidden just below the surface’. Tremendous track.
“Rubicon” is that invisible thin red line that dares to be crossed, tempting fate as well as a leap of faith, let the consequences be damned! The die is cast, the dice have been thrown, the cards are on the operating table, called it what you will ‘Alea jacta est’ , the flute work is stupendous, the drama intensely mediterranean, with a few rays of sunshine to chase the clouds of doubt away.
“Electronic Death Music part 2” is sub-titled 9-minute Phantasmagoria, and the rubbery bass does all the intruding one may require, burping like a sumo wrestler on vacation in Munich during Oktoberfest. The chaotic collisions are exquisitely convoluted, a form of attractive confusion, which is surely the proper definition of phantasmagoria or even Sonus Umbra for that matter (Sound of shadows or Shadows of sound , you choose!), the flute will decide anyway the outcome, initially obscured by rumbling organ flurries and shards of razor-sharp axes. The last third actually opts for an exalted melody with substance, like a blooming flower, all symphonic prog at its finest, a dastardly clever idea!
Enough dilly-dallying, time has come to soar majestically into the wild blue yonder, “Uniquely Human” has a brutal pulse to die for, Nasser’s bass causing major damage, Thor acting like some Viking demi-god on his kit, and as befits the human condition, open and willing to question all the ills of inhumanity, a labour of incessant torture that has haunted mankind since the very first Roswell, the one that landed in some garden called Eden. A kaleidoscope of extremes, and a central core that too goes often unnoticed We know what the problems are that have bee repeated ad nauseum. How about some solutions ? Well, the music helps soothe the agony!
There was an Aussie band called the Divinyls with a lyric that fits nicely with the next piece “Pain is Beauty”, it goes like this : “It’s a fine , fine line between pleasure and pain” (pronounced ‘pine’ ). Its perfect as this is the one classic song on this release, with an 80s feel to it and thumping percussive mayhem. Flute and sweet vocals combine for the panacea to take effect, and its completely delectable.
Finish with some abysmal idolatry is always a great idea, keeping the suspense tangible. “Hole in a Hole” could have been a Warhol depiction but only the rabbit really knows for sure. In the meantime, Sonus Umbra lay down a seventh track that does justice to the quality of this release. Being a card-carrying bass fetishist, I cannot help but to continue to admire Luis’s bass craftsmanship, regardless of his passion for Kleenex. He is one hell of a player; his soloing here is like diving into a Marianna trench of pleasureful sounds, the hell with the bends!
Another winning release from this talented band, in fact, it’s their finest yet!
4.5 Thresholds of darkness