Another example of Pinocchio Ricci’s lack of consistency in following up with concrete action after the promise of a quick review. This, in fact, is what I did in June 2014 when Dan Powell kindly connected me with the sounds emitted (and, in this circumstance, re-tailored) by himself and Gus Garside. However, as frequently repeated, great music has no expiry date. And The Bloudy Vision Of John Farley offers nerve-pinching twists and amorphous frequencies aplenty.
Some points of interest for the unafraid. The pair seems to (involuntarily) privilege the realm of the “virtual earwax”, where muffled emissions and uneven perspectives rule. They often produce acoustic grimaces whose heterotopic resonances and combined harmonics could turn a devil into an angel (or vice versa). This while remaining faithful to bizarre mutations of tones halfway through swinish and suffocating. In “A Random Excerpt From The Third Earth Journal” we felt like having been closed in a giant rubbish sack and thrown in a fetid lake of melted vinyls by gloomy-looking replicas of Derek Bailey and Fred Frith circa Guitar Solos. “Tea Ceremony” would almost represent a self-explanatory title per se, however I’m sure that David Jackman would gladly accept a cup of those rumbling drones and bowed metals. The subsequent “The Ropes” depicts an overdriven rainbow, the image being immediately disfigured by the intrusion of an arsonist intent in pouring gasoline on an effect pedalboard. “Kite Flying In Surrey” might suggest rural transparency; instead, it translates as a bad commuting day on a malfunctioning bus.
A lot of peculiar timbres and reconstructed improvisational concepts, imbued with Franciscan wisdom and tranquil rebelliousness at once. It’s beautifully discordant stuff all the way: hard-hitting yet sweet to these ears, corrosive for commonplace but not for intelligence.