Michael Shrieve, "The Fierce Energy of Love" (7d Media)
Seattle's been home to a musical legend for decades: former Santana drummer Michael Shrieve. Out of the limelight that bathed his peak years slapping skins on eight albums with Latin-rock superstars Santana (1969-1974) and after sessions with German synth guru Klaus Schulze, Japanese percussionist Stomu Yamsh'ta's Go, ambient luminary Steve Roach, and a stint with American space-rock band Automatic Man, Shrieve has been creating adventurous music on his own and with the groups Spellbinder and Trilon, among others. He also worked on soundtracks for Paul Mazursky's Tempest and David Lynch's American Chronicles TV show, to name only two.
Similar to former Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart, Shrieve has spent the time outside of his most famous band exploring various styles, revealing voracious curiosity and skillful versatility. Over the last decade, Shrieve's produced compelling releases that ingeniously incorporate spiritual jazz, funk, jungle, prog rock, and Fourth World ambience. Unlike most of his classic-rock peers, the 75-year-old Shrieve always has been keen to leave his comfort zone.
Shrieve's newest release, Drums of Compassion, has been at least a decade in the works. Shrieve was talking about it when I interviewed him for this blog about the movie Whiplash in 2014. Even before that, though, Shrieve was inspired to record this album after hearing the Dalai Lama call for a time of compassion while also drawing upon Nigerian percussionist Babatunde Olatunji's influential 1960 LP, Drums of Passion. In fact, Drums of Compassion begins with "The Call of Michael Olatunji," weaving the late drummer's chants into a majestic, ritualistic beat mosaic with a poignant guitar motif by Trey Gunn. It testifies to Shrieve's respect for African music.
"On the Path to the Healing Waters" bears the nocturnal, cool-jazz aura of Jon Hassell's late-era works. Laced with Skerik's mellifluous sax, gorgeous piano punctuation, a sly, shuffling beat, and field recordings of said soothing agua, the track is just what the soul doctor ordered. On "As Above, So Below," forlorn sax slowly wafts over rapidly skittering beats and gruff African chants. "The Europhic Pandiero of Airto Moreira" features the titular Brazilian percussionist madly and comically scatting over thunderous hand drums for 55 seconds.Â
"Oracle" boasts rhythmically potent mysticism that would make '90s-era Bill Laswell twirl his beret in appreciation. "Hejira" (not a Joni Mitchell cover) is a compelling mesh of serenely beautiful ambient drift, courtesy of former Seattle experimental stalwart Jeff Greinke, and the deft, robust drumming of Shrieve and the fusion legend Jack DeJohnette.Â
My favorite cut on Drums of Compassion is "The Fierce Energy of Love," an undulating percussion beast that sidewinds with strange syncopations through dense forests and turbid streams to achieve a wild epiphany. The track deserves to be at least four times longer than its 85 seconds.
About 20 years in the making, Drums of Compassion is totally worth the wait.
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 "Give Me Back My Golden Arm" (Bulbous Monocle)
Portland indie label Bulbous Monocle's righteous campaign to bring the long out-of-print catalog of Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 continues with the 1993 EP, The Funeral Pudding. Bulbous Monocle is run by Hisham Mayet, one of the founders of global-music colossus Sublime Frequencies. With that label since 2003, he's proved his impeccable aesthetics. This important band's discography is in very good hands.
Thinking Fellers stalked the American rock underground in the '80s and '90s, releasing several records that combined peculiarly beautiful songcraft with unpredictable dynamics and tonalities that skirt around the peripheries of tasteful and absurd. As for their lyrics, I will never be on enough drugs to decipher them. While contemporaries such as Ween seemed to be straining for weirdness and wacky eclecticism, those traits seemed to come totally natural to Thinking Fellers.
Produced by Greg Freeman (Pell Mell), The Funeral Pudding remains one of TFUL282's strongest releases. Members Anne Eickelberg, Brian Hageman, Hugh Swarts, Jay Paget, and Mark Davies cut these 10 songs around the same time as the Admonishing the Bishops EP. However, Funeral Pudding skews weirder, even if it does contain "Heavy Head," a fairly conventional indie-rock tune sung by Eickelberg, though it's streaked with strident violin slashes and what sounds like a slightly out-of-tune ukulele.Â
One standout is "Flames UP," the coolest, strangest surf-rock instrumental since Sun City Girls' "Radar 1941." With its unpredictable violin runs and weirdly tuned guitar, this tune recalls early Camper Van Beethoven at their most adventurous while the main melody faintly echoes Sonic Youth's "Death Valley '69." Speaking of which, the oddly chiming 80-second instro "Firing Squad" could've been an interlude on Sonic Youth's Bad Moon Rising. "23 Kings Crossing" is TFUL282's attempt at florid, bookish prog rock, and it works. They've always excelled at sudden tempo and key changes, as well as non-obvious, catchy melodies.Â
Funeral Pudding climaxes on "Give Me Back My Golden Arm," the longest song here at 8:34. Though it was recorded over 30 years ago, it sounds bolder than most indie rock happening now; the track even makes '80s Butthole Surfers seem a bit trad. This is more like the frayed convolutions and tunnel-visioned aural hallucinations of Royal Trux's Twin Infinitives. But a coda of woozy beauty floats in and upends the previous six minutes of gnarliness. Perverse!Â
As great as Thinking Fellers were, they were not very influential. That's because their music was too much the product of unique geniuses obeying impulses only they could manifest for anyone else to emulate it with authority. Thinking Fellers were authentic originals, a rare species in the USA.Â
