Joseph Waters' multifarious music is too complicated in its organization to be dismissed as facile, too integrated in its polystylism to be discounted as merely eclectic, and too disarming in its absurd humor to be disliked. Yet Offshore, Waters' 2006 release on Albany with the
Bakken Trio, is almost too elaborate, varied, and silly for its own good, or at least for the sake of winning admirers and convincing skeptics. If a combination of electronica, cartoon music, avant-garde gestures, and the textures of a classical chamber group can be imagined, then you have a vague idea of what Ocean Eyes, the fantastic collage that opens this album, sounds like. Or if cosmic musique concrète can share space with minimalist patterns and farcical special effects, then something like Witches of the Unconscious -- Son Clave may come to mind. Unfortunately, Waters' restless multi-layering and continual dense-packing of musical ideas tends to be too much for the ear to absorb over the course of the CD, and his unpredictable method of "trying a little of this, then a little of that" puts one in a state of unrelieved tension that is not entirely pleasurable. Eventually, Waters' virtuosic displays of incongruous ideas and flashy techniques become tiring, so that Ghosts of the Evening Tides, Aloiloi, Pakuikui, and Loneliness of the Sun are received with less receptivity than resignation, and the pieces slip by with few memorable distinctions. Surprisingly, the work that employs the smallest forces, Kanashibari for cello and live electronics, is the one that leaves the biggest impression. Philip Hansen's intense performance persuades the listener that a serious intention lies behind the work, and despite the piece's crazed hyperactivity and volatile energy, there is at least a feeling of catharsis at the end that the other works lack. Albany's sound quality is clear, natural, and enjoyable for the most part, but some sudden electronic outbursts may be startling, even at a moderate volume.