Like most (all?) of Sly & the Family Drone’s output for me, Walk It Dry is far beyond words. (cue more words…) It bruises. It’s relentless. It can be heavy as fuck (heavier than most). And it can convey a quiet stiletto sense of dread.I put this on to wake me up.I put this on…
Is it me, or is this a bit creepy? Title track aside, this album consists of the six-part Loftopus, a 31-minute suite that begins minimal, gets gradually less so, layers accreting upon layers, threatening by the end to become almost lush but in reality is more like a sonic quicksand, gently but inexorably drawing you…
An otherworldly set of tunes channelling a loosely-assembled freak-jazz vibe. A broken-noir soundtrack, oddly disturbing and full of disintegrating ennui. An avant blues-jazz kaleidoscope; each crystal facet inevitably evolving into the unexpected. The piano scaffolding of Fixed, embracing a landscape out of phase, shifting, blurring, with no secure or predictable footing. The empty, damp streets…
