Scaring the Mice For Revenge - Self titled [Prohibited Records - 2022]Scaring the Mice For Revenge is a new collaborative moniker of four prolific musicians who have crossed paths various times in the past. Their self-titled album has recently come out on Prohibited Records, a label owned in part by one of the members, Nicolas Laureau, who plays sitar on this album. The music they play is spaced-out improvisatory fare that could be called experimental jam band music or 'out' jazz, in the 70's sense. I am unfamiliar with these musicians' work, though I've heard some other releases from Prohibited Records. From the beginning of the vast seventeen-minute opener, "Bamboo Stick Shop", the sounds the group creates seem to skirt around the rim of a massive implied space. It is as if an unseen object with massive gravity oppressively pushes down on all attempts at movement, rendering them sluggish. Under this strange heavy pressure, the group takes several minutes to cohere into a sluggish tribal feeling pulse. The track drops off into near-complete silence around nine minuteks mark- coming back for something of a second movement after building in density again carefully and gradually. Jérôme Lorichon, who is credited with "oscillators, spacedrums [and] effects", adds a sort of otherworldly dub flavor with his electronic percussion.
As stated in the liner notes, the group was aiming to create the feeling of spiritual jazz such as Pharoah Sanders or Alice Coltrane, and certainly at the peak moments, a resemblance is achieved. For a lot of the album, though, the sound of this group is significantly more minimalist and reserved, focused upon rhythm, with the fervent, urgent expressiveness of the saxophone used sparingly. Aside from saxophonist Quentin Rollet, who delivers a stunning and active performance, the players in this group don't seem to have the agility or chops of their jazz influences, and thus rely on simpler, more repetitive styles of playing typical of post-rock. Laureau's sitar, in particular, often drones on a single pitch, opting for expressive bends rather than complex melodic exploration.
This is as much as Bill Laswell-esque dub record as it is jazz. This is not a bad thing; the minimalist, rhythm focused approach works well for them, as all the players seem to co-exist within the same smoky, relaxed headspace and move comfortably as a unit. The album as a whole is thematically unified and flows very smoothly.
The track "Cow Face Posturing" is curiously deconstructed, featuring sparse yet consistent rhythms featuring only hats, toms and bells, but no real low end to anchor the pulse, creating a situation of implied rhythm, where one's mind fills in the gaps. "Birds Riding On Top Of Trucks" is a heavy, fully formed beat this time around, with gloriously full skin drums beaten in an offtime pulse, and the metallic rattle of the sitar used as another part of the percussion. Aside from the trumpet solo that emerges in the 2nd half, it nearly sounds like Muslimgauze.
The faux-Middle Eastern-themed jam band recording by European musicians is a bit of a cliche by this point, something the group seems to poke fun at themselves with titles like "A Charming Snake Pit". That aside, this is a very listenable and creative album that explores the fringes of what might constitute a 'band' with curious combinations of instrumentation and a playfully adventurous attitude towards the creation of content. The group adorns their hypnotic beats with all manner of curious colorful timbres; there are appearances of uncredited instruments such as the trumpet, and at one point, someone even sings through the saxophone.
The group seems to understand that just a bit of implied structure is often quite enough to create a significant feeling of momentum across the whole recording. It numbers among the most abstract lounge albums, but still serves its function well, with ear-pleasing production and instrumental tones. Recommended for fans of Bill Laswell, and the more far end of instrumental dub, and the places where it intersects with jazz. To indulge yourself in the album Josh Landry
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