‘Guitar Trio Is My Life’
by Rhys Chatham & His Guitar Trio All-Stars, Radium Records

Written amid the punk breakout of 1977, Rhys Chatham’s “Guitar Trio” is what happened when a band geek (Chatham) somewhat reluctantly went to a seminal but probably rather smelly club (CBGB) to see an incredible, enormously influential band that was probably a bit beneath him musically (The Ramones). The band geek’s mind was blown, and, shortly thereafter, he composed “Guitar Trio,” a seven-plus minute exploration of punk fury fused with minimal composition that could not be more relevant 30 years later.

Proving the point is this three-CD set recently released by Radium Records. In celebration of the song’s anniversary, a silver-haired, axe-wielding Chatham took to the road last year, assembling a new band of Guitar Trio all-stars at just about every stop, and repeatedly playing the hell out of a lengthier “Guitar Trio” manifestation. This release captures 10 live performances from that tour, with a number of guest guitarists, including Chatham contemporaries Alan Licht and Tony Conrad, both members of the Canadian Silver Mt. Zion collective, as well as Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo. I can’t think of any band more indebted to Chatham’s punk rock guitar experiments than Sonic Youth, and their performances with Chatham are among the most spirited.

In truth, this plentiful collection will probably test the average listener’s patience. It is, after all, three CDs worth of the same guitar chord. But for fans of minimal composition, the subtle nuances in guitar tone, the loudness or softness of the drums and the varying sounds derived from the glorious, hammering guitar-wash denouement of each “Guitar Trio” variation will be enough to keep it interesting. I was kind of hoping for a fourth disc.

For more info visit www.rhyschatham.net/rccomsite.

‘Devotion’
by Beach House, Carpark

On their second album, the Baltimore duo of Alex Scally and Victoria Legrand do almost nothing different from what they did on their acclaimed debut—except that it’s all a lot better. So, for many, “Devotion” will be a welcome continuation of the duo’s timeless feel-good music for the winter-weary. The disc is another collection of simply arranged bedroom pop songs for dreamers. It certainly is a good way to pass the time until summer shows up.

That’s not to say that these are all sugary pop tunes. The mood throughout the album is at least half-gloomy, kind of like the waning days of a summer vacation. Heavy reverb floats Beach House’s music into a drifting, echo-filled universe that is simultaneously melancholy and uplifting. Clearly, the band drew inspiration from whimsical but earnest 1970s pop, the Carpenters being a strong reference point. But, whereas that era’s music was sometimes over-orchestrated, Beach House spurns the grandiose and instead thrives on minimal arrangements. A repeating keyboard line, simple programmed percussion and not a whole lot else serve as the canvas for Legrand’s dreamy voice. But, when she starts singing, Beach House sounds huge.

For more info go to www.beachhousemusic.net.

‘Resin’
by Religious Knives, No Fun Productions

No current band can make a drug-free person feel more drugged-up than Brooklyn’s Religious Knives. I picture the trio living in some Brooklyn hippie commune, surrounded by strange art and fruit flies, spending 23 hours a day jamming in a dark room filled with smoke and fluorescent mushrooms. Wait, now I’m picturing them outside, where there’s a swamp and also some sort of burning effigy hanging from a tree, and probably some nudity.

I think I’m totally tripping on Religious Knives right now.

It’s not surprising that the band has this effect, since the three members have been honing their psychedelic properties for years. Together, Maya Miller and Mike Bernstein, formerly of Double Leopards, and Nate Nelson, who also plays in drum-bass juggernaut Mouthus, make some real dome-tinglers as Religious Knives. The basic formula: trippy, repetitive organ/synth, tribal drumming and whatever other noises seem right at the time. Recently, the Knives added dub-influenced rhythms and a lot more vocals, which actually make the songs even more bizarre, because the lyrics are total nonsense.

“Resin” follows quickly on the heels of the band’s recent live CD “It’s After Dark,” as well as last year’s “Remains,” also on Not Fun. As on those prior releases, the band’s strength on “Resin” lies in its brooding, slow jams, many of which are melodic and listenable. Many of the tracks here have been available elsewhere in extremely short supply, though the CD does feature three previously unreleased tracks, including one live recording from a Washington, D.C., show last August.

It’s clear with every new release—and there are many of them—that Religious Knives is no longer a side band, but the bearer of a burgeoning New York City sound on its way out of the gutter.
For more on the Knives go to www.religiousknives.com.

‘Spirit Transform Me’
by Oren Ambarchi/Z’ev, Tzadik

This is a totally unreal collaboration between two avant-garde greats on John Zorn’s Tzadik label. Ambarchi, an Australian native, recently gained wider recognition for running with the Stephen O’Malley/(Sunn O))) doom-metal crowd. But Ambarchi has been a key figure in experimental music for upwards of two decades. Z’ev, a bald-headed and mysterious percussionist and sound artist, did most of the heavy lifting on this record, taking source material from Ambarchi’s guitar work and adding his own heavily processed percussion, some of which was recorded back in the 1980s.

There are moments during the first two tracks in which the drones and pulsing tones of Ambarchi’s guitar and the eerie, other-universe percussion of Z’ev is so utterly enveloping that it feels inescapable. The second track, “Bet,” is more percussion-heavy than the rest, beginning with about three minutes of clangs and scrapes that sound kind of like a guy repeatedly falling into trash cans. By the end, Z’ev is absolutely pounding on the drums, although they are hard to distinguish over Ambarchi’s hellish shredding. The whole thing coalesces into a pounding wall of euphoric drone and feedback that will make the room shake.

The record chills out a bit on the third and final track, though it does feature plenty of the Ambarchi miracle—his ability to create a low-end guitar tone that is virtually inaudible but can be felt in the bones like some ghastly, throbbing presence. I never want to stop listening to this.

For more on Oren visit www.orenambarchi.com.