By Nick Metzger
Incredible music here from the Belgian duo Poor Isa – augmented this time
round with Evan Parker on saxophones and Ingar Zach on percussion. This is
the third release from the duo who work mainly in banjos and woodblocks
following
“let’s
drink the sea and dance” in 2019 and
“Dissolution
of the Other” in 2023. It may sound like a meager palette, and it is,
but the duo work serious witchcraft with these tools. Their sorcery spans
the gamut from knobby twang to scratchy percussive to eerie daxophonian and
to some quietly introspective and surprisingly meaty nodules in between. The
players are
Frederik Leroux
and
Ruben Machtelinckx
, both prolific collaborators and both primarily of the guitar persuasion.
Here their surreal avant-folk project (for lack of a better term) is
transported to a different plane altogether with the addition of
Evan Parker
and the prolific Norwegian drummer
Ingar Zach
. The elements they bring to bear make for a remarkable listening
experience, one full of unique soundscapes and novel amalgamations that feel
veritable and emotive in their revelations.
The album is split into five very different pieces with Poor Isa providing
their broadest recorded stylistic variations thus far. The first track is
called “Clearing” and it begins with eerie floating tones that overlap and
dance, seemingly exchanging words. The piece is sparse and warm, slowly
building a warbly stasis that Parker interrupts with some of his most
careful and probing playing to date, each note feeling properly considered
and carefully placed so as not to scare away the fish. On “Ply” Parker plays
in popping, honking, squawking birdsong against a spare mixture of shifting
rhythms and skeletal, chiming folk drawl. There’s a sharp, simple melody
played by one of the banjos that recalls the abrupt toll of a grandfather
clock, with the patter of preparations and woodblock sounding like
clockwork.
Zach provides sparkling percussive elements as accompaniment for a simple
and sombre banjo melody on “Untitled 7”. This whole album is steeped in a
heady melancholy that is embodied remarkably well on this piece. Its
contemplative pacing yields some headspace to the listener and sets up a
quickening on the next track. For “Two way” Poor Isa goes full clawhammer
over an understated, yet propulsive rhythm from Zach. The chicken scratching
rolls like a river without restrain, coursing in alternating melodies and
scuffed drumming. Then Parker joins in and the thing becomes truly
extraordinary. Some carefully considered language again from the master
reedsman, showing just how versatile and acquiescent his playing can be. The
final piece makes up a third of the runtime and is called “Hewn”. Parker
starts off delicately with bright serpentine passages played at a half, and
then full speed, rousing the banjos into wispy, fingerpicked melodies that
Zach accents with bells and chimes. The track is a languid exploration of
the sounds on tap for this fellowship and closes the album in careful and
pensive fashion.
It’s an excellent record and a unique listen that I’ve been hard pressed to
find a good contemporary for. All things said it’s one of the best albums
I’ve heard this year. It all works so incredibly well that the disparate
elements arrive as multiplicity rather than discord, although there’s still
plenty of the latter to be had herein. If I have a single complaint it’s the
run time which is a lean 29 minutes – however, the damage done in this brief
interval is so evident that the gripe is a very minor one. In fact, had any
more meat been on the bone the essence may not have come through as richly
as it does here. This doesn’t feel pre-conceived at all and has the
energetic drive and personal stylistic deviations that are the very
signposts of a group completely lost in the magic of their creation – the
quartet huddling close to protect the flame. Highly recommended.