New Music From JJM3, Old Souls
JJM3
The Expanse
(jjm3.bandcamp.com)
This writer’s recent favorite music-related book is “Lexicon of Musical Invective”, a collection of hilariously scathing (and sometimes misguided) contemporaneous reviews of 19th and 20th century classical music.
It was compiled by Nicolas Slonimsky, who provides an enlightening preface entitled “Non-Acceptance of the Unfamiliar” discussing such criticism usually born from prejudiced and closed minds. Ironically, these writers show imagination in their entertaining and colorful put-downs, like one review of Tchaikovsky’s 5th Symphony that calls its finale “a horde of demons struggling in a torrent of brandy”.
“Catastrophe in a boiler factory”, “crime against music”, and “curiosity shop of tangled harmonies” are just a few descriptions in the “C” section of the book’s index of vitriol, called the “Invecticon”. However, while intended to repulse and humiliate, instead, these “insults” are intriguing more often than not and sound like they describe the music this writer has an affinity for.
This comes to mind when absorbing the sprawling, 80-minute new album The Expanse from JJM3, one of many monikers adopted by Chattanooga musician Joseph J. Micolo III. Micolo, while most visible as the bassist in the heavy shoegaze quartet Lacing, as a solo artist has a diverse catalog under different names, including GTRUK (instrumental hip-hop), SEGAWORMS (noisy “soilcore”), Vaus (sinister beats), JJEMMEIII (organ meditations) and more.
With JJM3, Micolo uses field recordings that are processed and edited, often heavily, to make evocative pieces where the mood and atmosphere are crucial, while hummable melodies are not. Sometimes the field recordings feature recognizable sounds, like birdsongs, bringing the listener back to reality after voyages to unknown locales, among engulfing hazes of drones and textures.
As one struggles to find apt descriptions, as a disgruntled 19th century classical music reviewer might, one’s mind can wander in creative ways to fill in the blanks. “MMY” offers unnerving ceremonial music, perhaps for some unholy ritual like a cross between an H.P. Lovecraft story and Eyes Wide Shut.
At first, “The Structure” is meandering and a bit perplexing, with beats that conjure images of a mob trying to beat down a castle door, and it ends with a cathartic yet disturbing cacophony.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, the closing track “Peace” has a peculiar kind of soothing warmth with a cloud of static, cricket chirps and chimes. And “The Expanse”—well, its beginning sounds like a horde of demons struggling in a torrent of brandy, and this writer means that in the best possible way.
Various Artists
Old Souls Volume VIII
(Musicophilia)
The most concise advice about cultural pursuits this writer has read actually came from a wine expert, Harvey Steiman: “Drink what you like and keep trying new things.”
That one sentence will get you pretty far. However, wine (and music) enthusiasts should realize that the first part isn’t just about relying on habits—it’s about understanding and articulating what you like and dislike.
It can be challenging enough for a person to acutely understand their own tastes, so it’s even more special when another person understands your tastes. It’s a little sad when gift-giving is a soul-less, obligatory activity but it has the potential to be profoundly meaningful when it expresses “I know you, and here’s something I think you’ll enjoy”.
Years ago, one trusted music enthusiast made a personal recommendation based on his knowledge of this writer’s tastes: a 12-CD boxed set from electro-acoustic artist Bernard Parmegiani. Without hesitation, and without prior familiarity with Parmegiani, this writer purchased it and as expected, it was deeply appreciated and enjoyed.
Which brings us to the compilation at hand, Old Souls Volume VIII, an unsanctioned digital download from Musicophilia run as a labor of love by Ian Manire, the aforementioned trusted music enthusiast. His impeccable taste and brilliant graphic design talents have combined on previous, often mammoth collections, focusing on various themes: post-punk/new wave (“1981”), library music (“Les Bibliothécaires”), Afrominimalism, funk (“Le Monde du Funk”) and many more.
With the Old Souls series, Manire spotlights new, eclectic directions coming from strains of soul, hip-hop and jazz, seemingly with a common thread of honoring musical history by expanding upon it, not mimicking it.
The latest installment centers on one spot (London) but covers a lot of ground and runs the emotional gamut with biting passion and fun, slithering grooves. It’s thoughtfully sequenced to provide a flow that makes aesthetic sense, and beyond its utility, as a stepping stone for further musical exploration, it works perfectly as a nourishing standalone experience.
Alas, non-dire circumstances have behooved this writer to take a break from writing, after 14+ years of weekly submissions, so this is a good opportunity to say thank you to all past and present esteemed colleagues at The Pulse (a publication that has never said, “Ernie, that’s just too weird/obscure/etc.”), readers (Hi Dad!), trusted sources of musical discoveries, and of course, the talented artists this writer has had the privilege to cover, who have fed his appetite for new things.