Anders Bryngelsson: drums; Mattin: guitar; Henrik Andersson: bass; Yoann Durant: sax
A simple instruction – play as hard and fast as possible for an hour – and voila, 120 minutes of utter havoc are served by Regler. In a way, the effort smells of superhuman; either by a virtuoso or a total slouch, sustaining all that time of fury is something that requires a proper physical preparation. In that sense, the trio (with the addition of Durant’s reeds in “Free Jazz”) does not disappoint, kicking, screaming and spitting ferocity throughout. But if we had to literally describe this stuff, the closest comparison we could find is with a minimalist (and punker) version of Faust, perhaps with the members strapped to a set of electric chairs but with an arm left free to do damage.
In fact, both tracks are so cluttered with distorted disarray and unremitting speed metal-like pulses that, after a while, the mind doesn’t really care about “understanding” what’s going on. You’re nearly physically forced to give ground to the sonic mass; accepting that is a most intelligent compromise. Maybe there’s a chance of a bit of headbanging fun, if one’s in the mood of getting some self-scrambling of the skull’s content. The musicians seem intent in a thorough riddance of whatever intellectual property the act of playing might contain, which in the end results in a sort of purification for them and the audience.
The energetic coalition worked fine, in these last few days, for this writer’s need of keeping the rest of the world out of his headphones. It’s great when you see certain persons’ mouths moving inside their idiotic, or at the very least nervously impaired countenance while listening to these guys cranking it up with gusto. A masterpiece it ain’t, not at all. But it’s still a loud, chaotic and ultimately amusing double CD lacking the presumption typical of ensembles that sound like shit as they’re convinced of rewriting the Bible of noisy improvisation.