Spectreview: Bobbygrooves, DEEMO & Sous Chef – Acid Cloud

-DEEP PINK-

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Music today is too much hype, too much narrative, too focused on drama and moral line-drawing and historical implications. In fewer words, music today is too much “everything else but music.” What happened to pulling cool sounds out of a keyboard, or feverishly pulling out the 8-track or the iPhone in the midst of a fertile jam session? I sound like I should be collecting AARP checks, I know, but even though this legitimate criticism is couched in some clumsy old-fogey false equivalence, there must be room for talking about music with no greater drive other than the joy of its creation. If you happen to be in the mood for that, Acid Cloud’s got you covered. A collaboration between Seattle musicians Rob Granfelt, Antoine Martel and Andrew Morrill, Acid Cloud runs the gamut between free-spirited soul-based jazz and experimental ambience. The entire collection of songs is improvised, with an energy that feels like a cross between Miles Davis’ exploratory 70’s output and the inspired wonkiness of legendary Japanese electronic band Yellow Magic Orchestra. If Granfelt’s drums are the nest, Morrill’s alto sax is the bird in constant flight; together they weave between time-stretched graveyard shifts (“Tired Wanderer”) and delicate sakura breezes (“Satori Mountain”).

Structurally it’s bifurcated, like Can’s Tago Mago, into an ear-catching A Side and a mostly atonal, nocturnal Side B. The difference comes down to Martel’s synth work, which provides the melodic foundation that Granfelt and Deemo meticulously build on. On initial listening, there’s the sweet swing of “Parisian Aquarium,” and the expansive deep of “Sea Anemone”, almost a red herring for the general spirit of the album. Then, suddenly, the mood changes from warm, comfortable sonic beds to immersive, almost overwhelming bubbles of sound and noise. “Chryskylodon” soundtracks open heart surgery on an alien, “Prowler” pulses with ominous waves, and the record’s climax, “Noise Garbage//Cosmic Apathy” skitters and builds to a cyclonic cacophony. There’s no narrative intention needed, just humble aspirations, the sound of three friends enjoying each other’s musical company. “Transience” ends the record on this benevolent note, coating the listener in soothing vapors and coaxing deep, long exhales. Acid Cloud, despite it’s title, is more salving that acerbic, not demanding your attention but rewarding it if offered.

Recommended for smoking weed in the pool late at night.