One

Chronique

One unfolds a dark, brooding, tortured sonic landscape consisting of quiet ramblings and self-mutilated statements. In short, this is not a cheerful trio, even by "free" or "electro-acoustic improv" standards. Phil Minton, usually so talkative, makes a conscious effort to restrain himself, producing short vocal sounds and abruptly cut gargles that differ significantly from his trademark logorrhea. In that, he is remarkably attuned to Thomas Lehn's synthesizer, which emits a sparse field of alien sonic bleeps and twitches. Axel Dörner rounds up the aural picture with inhuman close-mic'ed trumpet breathing. The album consists of four tracks recorded at three different concerts in 2003. "Ar?" is a continuous 31-minute set, a convincing exercise in disconcerting music. The piece evolves in leaps and bounds, taking us through several chapters of a sci-fi horror story left open. The trio uses acute listening to interact closely and create vivid abstract images. The same applies to the three shorter pieces (between four and 12 minutes in duration). Even in the louder, more vehement passages, the music remains utterly scary. The closing "Ma?" is filled with pitfalls to trap the listener into thinking that it's over, only to surprise him or her with an unexpected shout from above or a falling chunk of sound. In all its research and experiments, the "minimal improv" (or "reductionist" or "quiet," please choose your own descriptive label) movement had forgotten that silence can be used to scare, to create suspense. Toot shows the way.

© François Couture /TiVo