Australia's
the Necks are a genuine enigma. Over 20 albums, their aesthetic principle has remained stubbornly focused on complete improvisation, dynamic restraint, and "textural stasis," where all the elements emerging in a particular work are seemingly present at the very beginning. For a band that regularly applies musical and sonic layers gradually and then strips them away,
the Necks continue to confound genre expectations. Pianist/organist
Chris Abrahams, bassist
Lloyd Swanton, and drummer/guitarist
Tony Buck follow these core principles on Body. Their aesthetic provides the possibility for constant discovery between musicians and listeners alike. This is a single hourlong work with four distinct sections, performed in unhurried articulation and elucidation as a unit -- no one solos, all the time.
It begins with a series of lower mid-register modal piano notes and chords played as one idea, constantly. The keys' initial rumbling, slightly percussive flow creates a skeletal shadow of a drone (which could almost have been an outtake from LaMonte Young's The Well-Tuned Piano 81 X 25, were it not for the pulsing whisper of a ride cymbal, the soft insistent snare, and a mantra-like two-note upright bass vamp). From those first notes, it becomes obvious that
the Necks are looking for something. A spacious -- if repetitive -- organic groove emerges and comes to the fore, gradually changing shape: the snare becomes more insistent in the mix, revealing a kick drum that was seemingly always there. The bassline remains the same but eventually syncopates its pulse, using one beat, then two, alternating as different dynamic accents from the piano's lower middle register act as a guide. At seven minutes, a shimmering, monochordal organ enters, and eventually claims the fore. Later, organ and piano entwine in a dissonant drone. The former swells to denote a change, and the drums go silent for a time.
Piano chords flutter as
Abrahams pulses alongside
Swanton's bassline. An acoustic guitar emerges and hovers around.
Buck suddenly begins hammering on an electric guitar (and his kit) as
Abrahams begins pounding his keys like a mad, sinister boogie-woogie player. Musically, his jamming recalls the middle section in
the Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog." The rhythm section picks up on his notion and, within a few minutes, the trio is delivering a swirling, snarling interlude that could easily be inserted directly into the
Stooges tune. It all comes undone seamlessly via an ethereal articulation of piano chords, acoustic guitars, soft bassing, bells, cymbals, and ambient sounds. These elements eventually whisper the track into disappearance rather than conclusion.
The Necks move incrementally forward in their quest for the musical unknown on Body; it displays all their creative strengths in a single typically engrossing work. ~ Thom Jurek