There is probably no kind of music that triggers meta-discussions like free/improvised music does. Its nature is of such a peculiar kind, that it comes with the territory, a self-evident addition. Perhaps because it is so strongly rooted in the moment, in the act of creation itself. Despite being the oldest kind of music, it defies most of the rules that have accumulated throughout the years. There is no plan, no map, no advance agreement, no fixed structure. Sure, free music can be formulaic, predictable and boring, just like any other kind of music, but when it is properly done, it has a unique core that hints at endless possibilities.
It might be because it leaves so much up to the listener’s imagination. Especially when it is completely instrumental (or wordless), sound becomes the essence and the essence becomes sound. There are no words to tell stories, to steer you in a certain direction. There is just the sound. A note, a chord, a sequence, perhaps a sound that only a graphic score can represent. A thud, a crack, a whisper, thwack or groan. Thrilling sounds, whirling sounds, intense sounds. Music, already abstract by nature, turns even more inwards, to its own resources. I am not sure how this feels for a performing musician, which I am not, but as a listener, I can speak of its limitations and opportunities.
Colin Webster and Tom Jackson have become experts at this game of shapeshifting. Webster, a well-known figure for anyone who has been keeping up with this label, is a true sound explorer, comfortable in the most diverse stylistic surroundings, but also keen to explore his instruments’ potential. Clarinet player Tom Jackson, who has previously recorded with other familiar ‘NWOJ-musicians’ such as Benedict Taylor and Daniel Thompson, is a suitable match. With a sound that refers to the jazz tradition, innovators like John Carter and contemporary classical music, he is as skilled at avoiding proven formulas. In fact, the most striking aspect of The Other Lies might be its unpredictability.
The musicians turn, soar and whirl around each other, with extended techniques and a dynamic approach to their instruments and each other’s input. Once again, it triggers the imagination of any listener who is willing to tag along. As for myself, I couldn’t suppress thoughts about Jimmy Hamilton’s performance on Duke Ellington’s 1966 masterpiece Far East Suite (“Bluebird Of Delhi (Mynah)” in particular) while hearing some of Jackson’s chamber-styled runs in track 2. A bit later, Jimmy Giuffre’s Free Fall came to mind. With Webster: perhaps distant echoes of Hamiet Bluiett and Daunik Lazro. Not to suggest these musicians are derivative in any way.
Then again, they might also be the rushed conclusions of my overactive, restless imagination. But that is OK, as it might do something similar yet entirely different for another listener. It is that kind of album: strong enough to just carry you along if you are in the mood for that, but also capable of something more: inspiration, for instance. Anyway, if all of this makes sense, feel free to share that experience (with me or anybody else). If it doesn’t: no harm done, you have been exposed to some damn fine music in the process.
Guy Peters 2021
