reviewed by Jack Derricourt
The older I get, the longer the tracks I like. After Ever is two long tracks — a whopping 24:33 and 24:16 respectively. I remember when I thought the Velvet Underground’s “Sister Ray” was an epically long noise fest. Peanuts! Trevor Turple could give Lou and John a run for their money in terms of noise wash and vicious ambience.
There’s an abundance of instrumentation to keep the listener occupied on “After:” Trevor Turple weaves a dark jazz of flexible bass lines and crying sax, harmonica and shuddering guitar delay. By the end of “After,” signs are being sent to the extraterrestrial listener: chirping combinations of static sound, lateral gestures at phrasing, rather than organic lines of expression, the bare bones taking over where the muscles fell off.
Wouldn’t you know it, “Ever” is just as captivating, albeit, with an utterly different kind of tone and allure. The heavily synthetic, pounding sound of the A side is replaced with a lighter form of mid-day traffic. Tom Waits’ guitar graveyard might be the right way of peeking at the start of the track, through a half-squinting eye. There’s a toy at the heart of the piece, unwinding slowly, yet refusing to stop its chatter as it dies. But chaos comes into everything, ever to sure of itself, and twenty minutes in, you’d hardly recognize the choir of synths and fuzz from the simple twangs that began “Ever.”
So, yes, I reviewed two Havn Records releases within the same month. Big whoop. When the music’s this good, it’s too hard to say no. Trevor Turple takes one hell of a walk through eternity to bring us two maximalist pieces that deserve pure attention. Fans of soaring textures and aloof themes: inquire within.
Top Track: After Ever
Rating: Proud Hoot (Really Good)