New Music From Lacing, Jaimie Branch
Lacing
Without
(Elder Magick)
There are several different levels on which to appreciate the Chattanooga quartet Lacing’s second album, Without, and as the listener becomes more familiar with it, they may find ways to connect with it that may be entirely unexpected. It’s a complicated stew with varied approaches, ostensibly using heavy shoegaze as a baseline style but pushing into different directions.
Sound lovers who aren’t noise-averse may find themselves wondering how they made these sounds, particularly from the effects-laden guitar assault of Joseph Davenport and Robert Parker, going beyond presets and obvious treatments.
Then there’s the melodic level, where tracks like “92” offer tasty pop progressions, reminiscent of the band Moose, among polished screeching noise so the listener doesn’t get too comfortable.
Another notable feature is the feeling of power, as if these songs can’t be stopped once they get started, propelled by the thundering, potent rhythm section of bassist Joseph J. Micolo III and drummer Jerry Reed.
For example, “Violet” demands that you slow down to its own pace and even carries you with its hefty waves of sound; some of its tones warble slightly, depicting unease and perhaps human imperfection.
Right when you think it’s going to end, it unleashes its most potent, sludgy chugging, pounding away and driving toward its cataclysmic conclusion; one can bathe in its sounds, both soothing and demanding like a deep tissue massage from musclebound nurses.
Although Davenport’s words are often difficult to discern, there’s another aspect to Without to put it in context, and that’s the emotional aspect; Davenport has expressed that the majority of the album deals with his childhood emotional trauma due to a physically abusive father.
The album ends strongly, with “Regret”, a delirious, swift cacophony with Davenport’s floating vocals and the fury of hardcore, while “Flower” is a cleansing catharsis, with a slow and weighty head-nod-inducing burn. The final infinite track (which is truly infinite on the vinyl version, since it uses a locked-groove ending) is a phantasmagorical loop, a dizzying merry-go-round to conclude a sonically and emotionally tumultuous album.
Jaimie Branch
Fly or Die II: Bird Dogs of Paradise
(International Anthem)
One prominent development on trumpeter Jaimie Branch’s second album as a bandleader, Fly or Die II: Bird Dogs of Paradise, is her new use of vocals on a few songs, and she doesn’t timidly dip her toes into the water—she comes out swinging, undoubtedly fueled by the current political climate.
On “Prayer for Amerikkka Pt. 1 & 2”, she spits barbs about “wide-eyed racists” and says, “This is a warning honey / They’re coming for you” before a charged, sustained yell. One might question this new development and wonder if the music solely should tell the story and set the mood; on that track, Jason Ajemian’s double bass and Lester St. Louis’s cello offer a slow amble, gradually building steam to become more explosive, while Branch alternates between her bright, piercing trumpet notes and her vocalizing.
It feels like Branch just needs to say something spontaneously, like shouting out to a pedestrian to get out of the way of a truck running a stoplight; it’s more of a release and an interjection rather than poetry here.
Everything eventually whirls together in a feverish mix, with frantic bowing and percussionist Chad Taylor (of the Chicago Underground ensembles) offering his rousing, prickly momentum, and Branch’s trumpet melody resembles some Mexican/spaghetti western hybrid.
Although the album is framed with this verbalized discontent, ending with a smirking jazz-loungey “Love Song”—“for assholes and clowns” we are told, with no doubt regarding its target—it doesn’t dominate the mood.
A track like “Simple Silver Surfer” expresses an easy-going joy, with xylophone notes and a Caribbean vibe; it sports a simple melody, which Branch uses to ooze character with her loose and playful style.
After the sound of electronic calculations and rumblings, “Twenty-Three N Me, Jupiter Redux” throws the listener off balance with its odd 23-beat based time signature (as alluded to in the title) then hurtles down a bullet-train track, ending with arresting trumpet tones and metallic rattles.
“Nuevo Roquero Est Reo” features a groove that you don’t want to end, with Taylor’s propulsive, complicated Latin-influenced beat and Ajemian and St. Louis alternating their bass lines, providing a spirited bed for Branch to dance upon.
No sophomore slump after Branch’s impressive debut back in 2017, Fly or Die II articulates anger and joy with vitality and fierceness.