These days, very little makes me cry out for a miracle in the unending supply of items I receive. Sure, there are still excellent musicians around, but hardly ever are the bombastic press releases substantiated by top-notch music as the hyping narratives would have us believe. Then comes a relatively quiet promotional email in which someone talks about Jonas Mekas – one of the fathers of avant-garde cinema – in conjunction with the pair involved in the project, both playing guitars through mostly unconventional techniques, getting ready to expand principles originally developed by people such as Fred Frith and Glenn Branca.
One is already intrigued by a favorable initial impact. Some influences are detected, but a range of unique vibes is equally clear. The tones are shimmering, yet at the same time dusky. You can feel the intuitiveness, the will to understand each other’s vision in the process of extrapolating a bit of throbbing spirit from those strings, as the quivering of the guitar bodies continues. In the subsequent listens we start to identify the textural structure in between the abstractness, seizing the light of the creative act following the unspoken intention. We’re ultimately absorbing the sounds, no longer concerned with who, how, before, after. We swim in the midst of two resonant currents that generate a communion of meaning. Or, as the aforementioned Branca put it, an ascension.