The partnership between guitarist, multi-instrumentalist, and composer
Richard Pinhas and
Cuneiform Records has been exceptionally fruitful. Not only has the label reissued his earliest experimental recordings, but they've followed up with the catalog of his prog rock band
Heldon and released new offerings to boot. Mu is co-billed to guitarist
Barry Cleveland and features uber bassist
Michael Manring and Brazilian drum master
Celso Alberti (the rhythm section
Cleveland worked with on 2010's Hologramatron). It is one of two
Pinhas collaborations issued on the same date -- the other is
Process & Reality, with
Merzbow and
Tatsuya Yoshida.
These four selections were improvised in the recording studio, then put through
Cleveland's post-production compositional development.
Pinhas' signature "Metatronic live-looping and effects system" is especially well suited to this quartet's setup. Tempos, textures, and dynamics shift quite naturally within the stream of exploration with exceptional balance. Opener "Forgotten Man" is almost rounded in its quality as
Cleveland's labyrinthine melodic sensibilities offer a counterpart to
Pinhas' extrapolated loops and riffs.
Manring bubbles underneath, providing a countermelody as
Alberti adds hand percussion and his drum kit in Middle Eastern time signatures and modes. The centerpiece of the session is "I Wish I Could Talk in Technicolor," which commences with
Manring's fleet-fingered bassing, answered in dark phrases by
Pinhas and more elegant tones from
Cleveland. It suggests the
Jon Hassell of Power Spot and/or the
David Torn of Cloud About Mercury. Kinetic force develops with breakbeats, flanged guitars, delays, distortion, looping, and tonal and timbral shifts before it concludes in a long dissolve nearly 26 minutes later.
"Zen/Unzen" emerges slowly with a warm but sparkling atmosphere, before
Manring and
Alberti establish a schema that
Cleveland and
Pinhas alternately expand upon before poignantly dialoguing with one another. The nine-minute track sounds like one long intro transforming into another, building in intensity until it finally explodes. (
Manring's solo is breathtaking to boot.) Closer "Parting Waves" offers drones and open-toned washes that gradually expose the sound of crying seagulls. It evaporates into emptiness just four minutes later. It's the only way Mu could have ended, with merely a blur and a whisper, not a bang. While some may wish for more ferocity, the collective's interplay is so seamless, balanced, and canny, it's completely unnecessary. Since this outing is nearly perfect, the only desire should be for another album. ~ Thom Jurek