HUNTSVILLE – for the middle class

(CD, Rune Grammofon)

Does it really take three Norwegian free improvisers to find the tribalism in noise? For one, it is not only in Ingar Zach using tabla machines, sarangi boxes and shruti boxes (don’t even ask about it) to make music, which accompanies very interestingly with the guitars, bass, banjos, steel guitars of Ivar Grydeland and Tonny Kluften, especially when crashed against the means of music production summarized as various instruments in the booklet, which obviously means effect machines of all kinds, including digital and analogue boxes. Well, to be honest, there is no indication of any kind of superficial machinery, but the some of the noise sounds added in thick layers everywhere have that manipulated atmosphere, even if they were produced by common means. The tribalism character of the music is right there in the pertaining, syncopated rhythmic structures of the music, with its wild razing beats, that pulse of the wildest heart of the wildest continents, mushed against longwinded feedbacks and droning noise templates. That makes for interesting listening and really opens up your ears. Secondly, it is also a comment on the status of music making, especially of the truly artsy and avantgarde kind, which lives off a nation’s surplus – in the case of Huntsville probably oil money put to good use – and also evokes a lot of envy and puzzlement all around it. Like any kind of art, actually. (I am thinking of artists like CM Hausswolff, Hanna Hartmann or projects like the Kraakgeluiden or Construction Sonor, so you know I am talking about, like, real artists, very interesting and compelling in a lot of ways but also hard to listen to.) The reaction of the middle class to this bricolage of tribal rhythms and ferocious noise, two parts roots and history, three parts Scandinavian noise (which also has its short but distinguished history) and probably also a good measure of cultural cliché and misunderstanding, can only be guessed at. If everything turns out well just heads shaken in disbelief, in the worst case a proposition to stop all kinds of state funding for art projects if they turn out like this. It just is that way with art a lot of times: any way you do it you are wrong, but if you keep on doing it someday everyone will realize they were wrong and you right, or probably not. There are no rules so there are no safety nets either.

Back to our Norwegian avantgarde musicians, who step fruitfully away from free improvisation, though the basic idea of improv remains at the core of these songs, and introduce measures and tactics, some might even call them compositorial, that result in a more structured and almost songwriting effect, though admittedly you’d have to stretch and drag the common definition of songwriting hard and harder to fit in Huntsville. On the other hand, if you have already figured in Sigur Ros, then the step is not at all a big one anymore. Just add more liveliness, wild polyrhythms, less spheres and elves and more real people, and you are almost there. Even if single tracks take up a lot of time to evolve, harmonies may develop over the course of a few minutes and something new and surprising might happen at any time. In the meantime the various players drag in parts and bits of all kinds of styles and connotations into the songs, like a cat dropping a dead mouse proudly on the doorstep. Hints at blues are common as are free jazz conotations, though most of the development is predicament to drone. All the while the music flows and grooves like some living organism, with the plucked notes from the bass bouncing, the drums steadily going their way and various kinds of noise blazing away everything that might come in the way of our happy little trail. It is as easy to join as to come aboard the peace train.