O’Death Jug
The Ballad Of Sad Cafe (Four Arms, Two Necks, One Feedback #1)

Idioms roll on, so far. The guitar duo drips on an eastern stringed blues that echoes a former sound work (Shinjuku blues), a post-Japanese residency effort from Michel Henritzi. The dripping, sliding, plucking and bending, circled by arpeggios (slightly altering the course) tell the same dusty story, again. Dust wind blows, tumbleweed is brushed away : the notes and chords bounce and reverberate, and feed harmonies back into the sabbath; skeletal loops join in, while a lap-steel storm breaks > atonal waves of chords explode, bell-like, then decrease… The space considered for exploration is quite horizontal, focusing or residing on specific parts of the instrument’s neck, as a given territory. The results are so transfixed in a blinding light (white heat) that mirages happen : static and mobile overlap, everything moving as it remains stuck, like a slow eternal return. A focal point, a dust implosion in slow-motion, this music sounds like its distant cousin of the west : always the same, always different (& evolving) No melody carries it anywhere : rather an inward collapsing, a dusty set of starving ragas unfolding, over and over. Perpetual motion. Both instrumentalists remain seated, it goes without saying. The linocut sleeve is flirting with Posada-like imagery, day of the dead and all, a rough, sad and innocent display. Unwinding music, like a torn cloth in the desert wind. (by Hazel Lee)