Starving Weirdos - Father Guru/Howlin' Magic - Howlin' Magic

Azul Discografica
AZD03

AZD04

These discs each presents facets of what I can’t help but think of as the stoner sensibility. I say this knowing nothing of the personal habits of the individuals involved, indeed, nothing much about them whatever. But both have an obsessiveness about their chosen pathways that is perhaps in excess, at least for this listener, of the value to be found therein, an intensity of focus on certain sonic shards that seems a bit out of proportion.

Starving Weirdos (and I admit I have some difficulty getting past the name. I mean, even if meant ironically—which I doubt—it’s overdone) are Brian Pyle and Merrick McKinley plus a few guests scattered about. Three longish tracks are found here, each concentrating to fair degree of exclusion on a given sonic field, each tarrying longer in said fields than anyone not using controlled substances could reasonably justify. Not that this is a bad thing, necessarily, but such obsession can generally use a clarity of focus and that appears to be anathema here. “Cypress Groves” deals with echo-y sounds from the celesta/toy piano/mbira/Sun Ra clavioline end of the spectrum, clouds of ringing tones with some underlying string (?) drone. The former proceed in a nice, irregularly slow pace, rather like water dripping from an eave, but the point is made some six or seven minutes into the 20-minute piece. “Trancin’” (yes) opens with massed zither-like thrums that inevitably recall Laraaji and soon makes good use of some additional field recordings (shouts and other noises from within an apparently large space), an effective contrast. Once more the pace is relaxed, once more the piece treads water well beyond its welcome. There’s a point, I suppose, where sensual immersion trumps intellectual impatience but, for this listener, that marker wasn’t reached. The label’s promotional material makes reference to AMM with regard to this group, a comparison I find non-applicable, but if any track here bears some slight resemblance to that ensemble, it’s the final one, “Mist-Shrouded World, Pt. 2”, though we’re talking those portions of AMM circa 1966 where they dwelt in the area of high string drones surrounded by percussion. On this piece, the sound-world is well-varied, a veritable zoo of bells, rubbed objects, electric bleats, god-knows-what else, the cumulative effect of which is rich and captivating. If, as by now has become expected, it tarries too long, it at least maintains a reasonable level of interest, not a bad track at all. I get the sense there’s something at work with these Weirdos but that the smoky haze is obscuring things….

Howlin’ Magic is Jesse Rakusin and his raison d’etre is scorching, free, ultra-fuzzed blues-based guitar, a point hammered home in these ten tracks. Reference points would likely include the Keiji Haino of Fushitsusha as well as other PSF staples from the 90s like High Rise or Musica Transonic. Mr. Magic, despite apparently going all out on every single cut, doesn’t achieve Haino-like levels of profundity but the pieces are all pretty solid and to the point, however amorphous that point might be. They almost sound like the climaxes wrenched out from existing longer-form works, the parts where the guitarist kneels on the stage, spilling his guts out, setting his axe aflame—yes, there’s Hendrix to be heard here as well. In fact, my main issue with the disc is that there’s not too much to differentiate one track from another, so strongly do they adhere to one fairly well-defined area. If I say that I’d choose the unfortunately titled “Music of the Spheres” as my favorite cut, it’s only because of my sense of an added layer of textural excitement, not that it’s structurally different from anything else. So if it’s acid-drenched, blown-out guitar ravings you’re up for (oh, drums can usually be located somewhere back there as well), Howlin’ Magic fits the bill and then some.

Available from the usual sources, such as Forced Exposure and ErstDist