SHATNER'S BASSOON - (The Self-Titled Album) Shansa Barsnaan
Wasp Millionaire Records
Johnny Richards - keys / electronics; Mick Bardon - Bass; Ollie Dover - sax/ clarinet; Craig Scott - guitar/ electronics; Joost Hendrickx - drums/ electronics; Andrew Lisle - drums
Shatner's Bassoon are a Leeds-based, six piece improvisational ensemble, who admit to being influenced by William Shatner's monologues and the perils of jazz induced trances, and cite the likes of Tim Berne, Franz Zappa and Zorn on a healthy list of influencers supplied with the press release for this their second full album release on their own Wasp Millionaire label.
Shana Barsnaan follows the mould of their previous release, Aquatic Ape Privlege. Their compositions (13 in total on this set) are formed of tight, episodic sequences of shortish melodic and abstract passages that are neatly and, very often, seamlessly, stitched into elaborate continua. The passages themselves are drawn from familiar sound worlds and genres, using evocative and contrasting sound palettes as much as they are drawn from less familiar, freely improvised and found-sound wells. The exposition of this array is often brash, rhythmically heavily accented, punctuated with asides and witty surreal musical caveats, and cut with quiet, introspective and trance-like passages of reflection.
At times, the experience of listening to this CD was like walking blindfold through a scent garden, the mind enveloped in the power of evocation, unexpected moments of triggered memories (ah, the glory days of National Health), things recalled and recovered, a sheer joy in wallowing in a fleeting, mindful cliche. But sadly, to wander in that scent garden knowing quickly that one has a kind of aural hay fever and wishes to get out of the garden as soon as possible. The immediate sensory joy aside, it is difficult to locate a sense of the zeitgeist in which this clever assemblage might operate with relevance and authenticity. I found myself thinking, too easily, so what?
It is doubtlessly smart music, probably funny to watch and probably live might convey an energy that entertains, but through the medium of the spinning disc and the speaker, it was difficult to feel drawn to this music as having the kind of relevance and energy that Berne, Zappa and Zorn had to their epochs of emergence and subsequently. Who does this music speak to? Yep, I know there's always the original subset out there, but this seems a little too knowing and self-aware in its formation to be either genuinely contagious or retroly quaint.
Reviewed by Peter Urpeth
Wasp Millionaire Records
Johnny Richards - keys / electronics; Mick Bardon - Bass; Ollie Dover - sax/ clarinet; Craig Scott - guitar/ electronics; Joost Hendrickx - drums/ electronics; Andrew Lisle - drums
Shatner's Bassoon are a Leeds-based, six piece improvisational ensemble, who admit to being influenced by William Shatner's monologues and the perils of jazz induced trances, and cite the likes of Tim Berne, Franz Zappa and Zorn on a healthy list of influencers supplied with the press release for this their second full album release on their own Wasp Millionaire label.
Shana Barsnaan follows the mould of their previous release, Aquatic Ape Privlege. Their compositions (13 in total on this set) are formed of tight, episodic sequences of shortish melodic and abstract passages that are neatly and, very often, seamlessly, stitched into elaborate continua. The passages themselves are drawn from familiar sound worlds and genres, using evocative and contrasting sound palettes as much as they are drawn from less familiar, freely improvised and found-sound wells. The exposition of this array is often brash, rhythmically heavily accented, punctuated with asides and witty surreal musical caveats, and cut with quiet, introspective and trance-like passages of reflection.
At times, the experience of listening to this CD was like walking blindfold through a scent garden, the mind enveloped in the power of evocation, unexpected moments of triggered memories (ah, the glory days of National Health), things recalled and recovered, a sheer joy in wallowing in a fleeting, mindful cliche. But sadly, to wander in that scent garden knowing quickly that one has a kind of aural hay fever and wishes to get out of the garden as soon as possible. The immediate sensory joy aside, it is difficult to locate a sense of the zeitgeist in which this clever assemblage might operate with relevance and authenticity. I found myself thinking, too easily, so what?
It is doubtlessly smart music, probably funny to watch and probably live might convey an energy that entertains, but through the medium of the spinning disc and the speaker, it was difficult to feel drawn to this music as having the kind of relevance and energy that Berne, Zappa and Zorn had to their epochs of emergence and subsequently. Who does this music speak to? Yep, I know there's always the original subset out there, but this seems a little too knowing and self-aware in its formation to be either genuinely contagious or retroly quaint.
Reviewed by Peter Urpeth
