By Gary Chapin
George Cartwright and Bruce Golden were easily my fave purveyors of
improvisational what the fuckery of 2024, and this recording is a
strong entry in their 2025 run for the title. Made up of thirteen short
pieces drawing from the worlds of garage sounds, electronics, lo-fi
musique concrète
, and the duo’s downtown jazz CV, South from a Narrow Arc is a set
that is reckless, heavy, and filled with cinema and humor. I could easily
be projecting my own sense of a good time onto these guys—maybe they’re
actually depressed and maudlin when playing, how would I know?—but the
sense of them creating music to suit their own fancies, tapping into joy,
and just occasionally cracking each other up in the studio is very
tangible. I would love to have heard some of the conversations that fell
between these pieces.
Listing the instrumentation hereon is not particularly helpful because
sometimes I don’t even know what is being played. Here it is anyway: Bruce
Golden – percussion and lots lots more, George Cartwright – saxophones and
guitar. “Lots lots more,” Bruce? Don’t confuse us with technical terms.
What I hear is bass, guitar, sax, someone pushing a heavy piece of
furniture on the sidewalk, bells tolling, as though heard by Quasimodo on
heavy downers. I hear … is that a stritch? As played by Dewey Redman? Well,
some sort of primordial buzzing reed. Hand drums. A maddeningly evasive drum
loop. Klangity-klang-klang. Some groove or other. Etc. Etc.
I’ve been aware of Cartwright and Golden for decades (not exaggerating),
but since reviewing the duo’s
Dilate in March 2024 my fire has been well re-lit. Here’s another for 5 stars.