Pure loveliness. Proper music-making,
DIY Classical, but nothing slapdash or posey. Intimate and tentative, seamed with risk, occasional mis-steps, dodgy tuning, minor technical fuck-ups; but driven by gripping, stilled dedication and deep musical understanding.
Double bass, electric guitar, flute, melodica, singing; recorded at home in NYC, on dodgy gear, with snug, woody, shhshh-ing, analogue-style ambience.
The trio hovers between cheerful relish — who’s that giggling at the back — and hushed, humble reverence, basking in the processes of musical communion and learning. They play like they are gingerly passing on a precious, fragile gift; but without prissy conceit.
Luminous selections from the last six hundred years — John of Dunstable meets Friedrich Nietzsche — are lovingly arranged by the group, with a bent for stripped-to-the-bone, emotionally restrained sublimity, steady as she blows.
Very warmly recommended. Soul food.