Charalambides: Tom and Christina Carter

Formed in 1991, patient psychedelic duo Charalambides grew into an institution as they soldiered on seemingly unmoved by anything happening outside of their own insular sound world. Shifts in their steadfast sound were minimal but gradual as it developed with countless releases throughout a 20-year period. Tom and Christina Carter finds Charalambides in their purest form, relaxed and comfortable in their well-honed craft without letting themselves get lazy. In fact, the album presents the group at their clearest and most intentional, sounding like exploring their mesh of ghostly wordless vocals and slowly spun electric guitar webs for decades brought them to a place of understanding. Recorded in two sessions with no overdubs in 2017, the album offers just six songs and clocks in at almost 80 minutes. Their hypnotic currents of eerie guitar and distant vocals sprawl out over every song, mostly avoiding the well-traveled dynamics of building in volume or slowly layering sounds. Instead the duo choose to hover on whatever impulse they're exploring. 20-minute opener "Runaway" hangs in a static, whisper-like hesitation for its duration, harmonica occasionally joining the stable of sounds but never really offering counterpoint to the lingering strands of guitar. When the duo does experiment with tension, it's a vulnerable look at communicating difficult emotions. Though never implicitly stated, Tom Carter's near-death experience when suffering septic shock on a 2012 tour of Europe might factor into the mournful distortion of "Life & Death." Similarly, Christina Carter's voice runs from cold murmurs on "Gone" to struggling near-lyrics on "True Love" to pained wails on "Midnight." She evokes powerful feelings without ever needing to spell anything out, calling on the same atmospheres that made Nico's best work so chilling, Patty Waters so frightening, and free jazz improvisers like Roscoe Mitchell so immediate. At this point in their work, control and restraint have become something like additional instruments to Charalambides. The unfurling minutes of Tom and Christina Carter offer endless avenues for self-reflection, remembrance of long-buried thoughts, or simply a warm underwater feeling to be immersed in for a while. The sounds and emotional currents shift organically and feel like wandering rambles, but the Carters' perfectly balanced compositions are the result of years of patient introspection.
© Fred Thomas /TiVo