Derek Bailey - Carpal Tunnel

Tzadik 7612

Most commentary on Carpal Tunnel Syndrome fails to mention guitarists among the commonly afflicted. It's an odd omission as their susceptibility to repetitive stress injuries makes sense, especially someone like Derek Bailey who’s made a career out of torquing and twisting his strings and ligaments in all manner of contortionist directions. Bailey finally fell prey to the debilitating condition in early ’05 and sought the counsel of various doctors who advised surgery as the best strategy to combat further damage. Incorrigible as ever, he opted against an invasive remedy and decided instead to devote his energies toward “trying to find a way around it.”

Adaptation is a bulwark of improvisation. On Carpal Tunnel Bailey sets about the task of retooling his celebrated tactics to the new circumstances with enthusiasm and wry humor. Certain of his fingers may be enfeebled, but the guitarist’s mental faculties are as sharp as ever. Feet intact, his facility with volume pedal remains undiminished too.

“Explanation and Thanks” is just that, a discursive monologue where he recounts his illness and peppers his matter-of-fact remarks with instructional punctuations of sparse, stippled guitar. These snippets are tottery in spots and reveal a reliance on thumb in plectrum’s stead as well as a preference for brevity over sustained strumming. But Bailey’s musings on both his condition and recent relocation to Barcelona are both enlightening and unexpectedly endearing in their candor.

The album’s other pieces carry titles corresponding to spans of time, presumably as correlates to the onset and advance of Bailey’s condition. A cluster of brittle banjo-like tones almost identical to those that open the album announces “After 3 Weeks.” “After 5 Weeks” feels almost slo-mo in its extemporaneous design. Bailey’s ornamentations are measured to the point of methodical in places, but the absence of linear velocity yields a palpable amount of nuance through sharp-witted use of space. Pedal shimmer coats bent notes and a lattice takes shape like a spider’s web revealed only by the dew droplets that cling to its gossamer girders.

Remaining tracks travel trajectories of disarming delicacy. Moments of dulcet lyricism are surprisingly many, such as the opalescent swells and quavering harmonics that arise on the otherwise angular “After 7 Weeks.” There's no Ruins-ready shredding to speak of, but Bailey’s relative reticence becomes an asset rather than an encumbrance. The recital winds up with a single sustained tone that strains the mic and dissolves into silence- an aural mirror to the tingling and numbing of limbs? Tzadik’s packaging and design are customarily first-class with medieval medical drawings and clever typefaces complementing the histological catharsis of the music.

Django made do with just eight functioning digits, fashioning one of the most influential fretting styles in improvised guitar music. Pat Martino was forced to completely relearn his chops after a brain aneurysm robbed them from his mind. Bailey’s found himself in a similar boat and the adage “whatever doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger” seems apropos. He may not be stronger physically, but the challenge presented by his ailment has opened fresh avenues of expression. Consequently, this album comes rich in captivating content.

~ Derek Taylor