Sean Noonan — Gambler’s Hand

You know how sometimes you look at an album, decide what its going to be, and then verbally apologise to the speakers as it turns out you were wrong? Well, this was one of those. Elegantly packaged in a fold-out card wallet, “A Gambler’s Hand” said “post-rock, post-rock, boring post-rock” to me; but I was, indeed, (essentially) wrong.

Sean Noonan, who plays percussion throughout, composed the album to accompany a story of his; and is accompanied by a traditional string quartet line-up (two violins, viola and cello). Thus the album (obviously) has a quartet/chamber feel to it; immediately drawing comparisons with bands like Univers Zero, and to some extent the David Cross era of King Crimson. Theres a knowingly melodramatic, cabaret-esque aspect to some of the tracks; whilst others display a more rigorous, formal approach. The second piece, “Caught In The Act”, is a good example of this, creating a treacherous maze of staccato stabs; but, although it comes together at the end, it does feel like a good idea drawn out way too long - which is arguably my thoughts on the album in general. I like the instrumentation, and the overall thrust of “A Gambler’s Hand”; but there isn’t a track or section that sticks in the mind. This isn’t helped by the somewhat spindly sound - in as far as the ensemble often attempt “rock” passages, but without always having the gravitas to convincingly succeed: the cello on its own just isn’t enough to add the required “weight”. The album appears to be a nice blend of composition and improvisation, but I can’t help but feel that some of the apparent free-er sections could have been reined in slightly; although the bulk of the tracks are quite short, it really does feel like a long, arduous album.

This is not a bad project, far from it; but for me, the album outstayed its welcome a little. Condensed to an EP, I think the quintet would have greater impact. There are definite high points - the opening passages of “Lully”, with its slippery harmonies, are wonderful - but they are lost in a greater, less memorable whole.