Bablicon
The Orange Tapered Moon
[Misra]
Rating: 7.8
Though they have loose ties to the Elephant 6 scene (drummer and leader
Jeremy Barnes is a member of Neutral Milk Hotel), nobody's going to
compare Bablicon to the Olivia Tremor Control or the Apples in Stereo.
They're primarily an instrumental outfit that thrives on energetic
improvisation, so more apt '60s comparisons would be Frank Zappa or Captain
Beefheart's Magic Band. Even the Beefheart resemblance, which evokes an image
of wide-ranging experimentation, is probably too limiting as Bablicon dabble
in thoroughly modern ambient music and noise textures as well, working their
way through a huge library of musical toys with both joy and skill. This
kid-in-a-candy-store approach to raw sound is a huge part of this record's
appeal, as the obvious pleasure Bablicon derive from making music together
carries over to the listener.
But if enjoying this record is easy enough, describing it is a bit tough.
The elements that the trio deploys in the studio are many-- bass, piano,
drums, xylophone, organ, electronics, saxophones, melodica, and surprisingly,
no guitars-- and they use them all in unconventional ways. Drums sound
beaten with hammers, piano strings are plucked by hand, keyboards are run
through distortion pedals, and the arrangements are all screwy. The amazing
thing, though, is that while this sounds like a formula for chaotic noise,
it actually coalesces into highly listenable music with catchy melodies, deep,
jazzy drumming and wide dynamics.
"Anne on an Infibulus" is a good example of the band's range. It begins with
a random mish-mash of sound, then steers subtly toward a three-note bass pattern
that propels the song into driving trance rock territory. Finally, it fades into
some kind of dreamy thumb piano coda. "An Orange Moon" swings almost as hard,
working through squelching electronics over a fuzzy bass riff and forceful
drumming, arriving at a dark, brooding organ pattern vaguely reminiscent of
Booker T. and the MGs.
Variety is the order of the day throughout The Orange Tapered Moon,
from the Carl Stalling horn figures of "210(2)" to the gorgeous prepared
piano on "The Well Tempered Alligator." And, like true showmen, the band
saves the best for last. The latter half of "An Orange Pumpkin Glowing
Music Ensemble," the album closer, is a glorious saxophone symphony that
gazes skyward like spiritual free-jazz icon Albert Ayler. It's a moving
finish to an excellent record.
-Mark Richard-San