It is not common for the concertina, this small instrument from the accordion family (and ancestor to the bandoneon, associated with tango), to be the subject of a complete album of new avant-garde music! So there is something to take note of, especially since this one is particularly pleasant, as long as you are not looking to be accompanied in your interpretation of traditional songs like My Darling Clementine. Let’s say. Tusk has nothing to do with that.
The album navigates relatively calm waters, somewhere between experimental ambient, drone, pointillism, and spiritual minimalism. An evolution, however, emerges throughout the four pieces of the album. Downbeat, the initial piece, is made of scattered granularity, where the instrument stutters while relying on the speckled atomism of the electro accompaniment. Next is Data Fire, where the same hiccuping and pointillism intensify, creating a dense sonic presence.
180-degree turn
The title track, and the third on the album, Tusk, takes a 180-degree turn, with sustained notes, slowly unfolding, subtly transformed throughout their blossoming. Gone are the electro tingles. We are faced here with an ultra zen panorama, stripped down, placid, and contemplative, with soft and subdued lighting. The final piece, Last Light, continues in the same vein, but gradually intensifies the light and brings it to a degree of almost blinding brightness as the music evolves. The light thus evoked, the last according to the title, ends up giving the impression of gamma rays rather than an LED bulb.
Certainly, you have rarely heard the humble concertina perform such advanced and innovative feats.
After the album Three Rivulets (which I had quite enjoyed right here), Kristina Warren, from Providence, Rhode Island, returns with another album full of good and new ideas. And the most exciting thing is that she does it with a creation that is completely different from the previous one. The ability of this artist to reinvent herself is admirable.
