Taj Mahal Travellers - August 1974 (P-Vine)

I’m very new to this record, but I couldn’t resist. I’ve heard all the buzz, but I now see the glory, and no, it’s not a royal scam. It’s about an hour and a half of some of the most visceral and satisfying thrum and buzz I’ve had the pleasure to ingest.

Recorded live in the studio under the loose direction of Fluxus composer Takehisa Kosugi and consisting of four long pieces, the set prefigures what would happen if Sunburned Hand of the Man met Birchville Cat Motel halfway. The drone on “Part 1” sneaks up, emerging out of a cloud of rhythmic delay, clatter and heavily-reverbed fly buzz, whistles moving across the soundstage invoking Tim Blake’s work with Gong. The instruments are largely acoustic, but they’re manipulated in such a way as to become larger than they are, marimba vying for prominence with what sounds like French horn and violin.

I cannot begin to describe the slow build and the complexities that make up the drone’s core. True, there are the sudden harmonica blasts, some sort of DeFord Bailey meets Magic Mother Invocation Jamboree, but these are subservient to the all-encompassing drone. Even when a particular instrument has a solo spot, like the muted guitar at the beginning of “Part 2,” it’s just a momentary diversion from the onslaught of collectivity. It’s mixed so beautifully, however, that each level of drone is apparent, making the whole like a sculpture that you get to see from several angles, each providing new revelations on every viewing.

Tonality, timbre, rhythm—each prove to be fluid constructions as this journey progresses. This, the group’s second album proper, is much more expansive than the first, sonically as well as temporally; yet, ironically, there is a certain stream-lined aesthetic at work here. As with early AMM, details emerge from collective obscurity with stunning clarity. This is definitely a feast for the ears, one I almost missed but whose time has come.

~ Marc Medwin