As harsh as the above may sound, it’s the unfortunate truth. It’s sad to admit that the post-rock genre is littered with bands (not just improv outfits) that inject their projects and albums with gimmicky goodness: hidden meanings, fancy artwork, or ridiculous attempts at instrumentation (“Dude, I know I can make that coffee grinder sound badass…”). So where does the new offering from Salt Lake City’s five-piece fit in? Oddly, we find it mashed between the polarities of musical conception almost perfectly.
The project itself is a double-dose of the eight improvisational songs recorded twice: once solo and then again with poet Alex Caldiero’s spoken word pieces scattered over them. Up front and honest: the biggest mistake made with this release was the order of the aforementioned discs. Caldiero’s poetry is featured on disc one and almost traumatizes the listener immediately with the verbal bravado on “The Invitation”, especially those familiar with the band’s two prior releases. The rest of the initial disc follows unfortunate suit, with Theta Naught shoved in the background, struggling to create an atmospheric shelter for Alex’s poignant, sharp, and sometimes baffling verses (“Heaven? I don’t know anything about the place. I don’t even know if it is a place. For all I know, it’s a vegetable!”) Alex veers off into his own David Lynch-like world countless times, metamorphosising into a grunting, babbling, lip-fartin’ Screamin’ Jay Hawkins on “How Long Did it Last.” Instead of poking fun at his sax player like ol’ Jay was known for, one can only imagine Mr. Caldiero wobbling off stage between songs to a fine bottle of vintage Pinot, poured in the only clean glass the bar can muster.
After experiencing 60 minutes of this, one is a bit weary to pop in the follow-up disc, for fear of what might leap forth into their ears. Fortunately, and again especially for those familiar with Theta Naught, this is the ultimate payoff. To reiterate, these are the same eight songs featured on the first disc, stripped of Caldiero’s spoken word hoopla. It’s a bewildering relief. Without words we are able to experience the conception, birth, life and death of this swirling life matter. It takes a conscious effort to realize/recall these tracks are improvisational in nature as their structure is tight, flowing, and uncannily complete. It’s difficult to single out tracks as evidence of goodness, as they seem to merge together, each promoting a unique blend of Theta’s atmospherics while retaining a brooding, deep sound these six guys could easily trademark.
What is most interesting on this disc is the complete departure from traditional post-rock semantics (defined by instrumental bands whose names need to be mentioned in another review like I need another GY!BE side-project). The dependability on brooding, multiple layers that flop themselves over each other again and again until an apex is met, is a technique Theta turns their nose up at. They instead focus one or two layers each track, exploring every crease, crack, and crevice in that layer’s existence. In other words, they reach their full potential instead of smashing together layers to create a tremolo we’ve all heard before. It’s a quality vs. quantity thing. Also, whereas other improv outfits, such as Triosk, push ambience to the forefront, Theta focuses on structure and isn’t afraid to step up and commit to something. This takes balls, chiefly without planned orchestration, as they leave their sound wide open to missed connections between instruments. However, this is something we rarely see occur. It’s obvious these guys have a connection with one another and tracks like “Subtracting Up” and “Axioms that Satisfy” are ample proof of their mature relationship.
The perplexity of this album rests in the strange divergence between two discs that feature identical songs. Perhaps this is exactly what Theta Naught aimed for: another experiment into uncharted territories involving those little things we know as sound, patterns, and vibrations. What else can you expect from a band that offers an equation to explain their name and a homework assignment on their web site? Nevertheless, the instrumental impact of Sound Weave’s second installation far outweighs the introductory disc, regardless of how experimental or avant garde the latter may be. Without doubt, this release stands as an absolute “experience” and while the attempt at merging spoken word and post-rock may get eyes rolling from the standard listeners, the instrumental compositions that follow on the second disc will incontestably tickle their spine with fascination.
-Jonathan Brooks