In 1995, King Crimson resurrected itself once again and released an album called THRAK. The eighties version featuring singer/guitarist Adrian Belew, bassist/stick player Tony Levin, drummer Bill Bruford, and guitarist/leader Robert Fripp folded in touch guitarist Trey Gunn and drummer Pat Mastelloto (both from the touring band for Fripp’s album with David Sylvain) for a “double trio” configuration that made an album unlike any other Crimson had created. Noisy, cacophonous, based even more on improvisation than previous records, yet still dedicated to craft and vision, THRAK is a landmark in the band’s catalog and of progressive rock in general. (It’s this writer’s favorite Crimson album – can you tell?) Sadly, it seems to have been shifted to the margins of the Crimson story, if the last few Crimson tours and the fact that its thirtieth anniversary was ignored last year are any indication.
That said, THRAK has clearly not been forgotten by the musicians who made it. Progressive rock trio Stick Men, featuring Levin (exclusively on the Chapman Stick), Mastelloto, and touch guitarist Markus Reuter, make that clear with their latest album, pointedly called Let’s THRAK Again. The band pays loving tribute to the album, but not in the way you might expect. Much as with jazz – a style Stick Men have some affinity with – the band chooses not to cover any THRAK tracks, but instead write new ones that hearken back to that album’s style and feel. That concept gives the trio a wide range in which to roam, allowing them to veer between caress and crunch without sounding jarring. Reuter’s touch guitar work both shreds and soothes, depending on the needs of the song, Mastello’s kit work keeps the rhythms in constant motion with fills at the just the right moment, and Levin’s Stick drives the tunes while acting as the music’s foundation.
“Thief of the Dice,” “Komodo,” and “Like We Did Last Summer” (which follows the title track, naturally) mold complexity into vibrant riff rockers that both reward close listening, and tweak the rods of anyone who just wants to rock out. Flexing even more muscle, “Brutal,” “Fandango,” and “Reading the Future” add heavier textures, never quite crossing over into progressive metal, but giving headbangers something to grasp. “The Well” and “Swimming in Tea” (the only song with sung lyrics) glide down dreamier surfaces, with ghostly touch guitar and swirling percussion riding Levin’s throbbing low end. “Dark Birthday” interweaves electronic touches into a near-gothic track that draws from the same elements as the rest of the record, but sounds strikingly different. This is a band that refuses to stay in one comfortable wheelhouse – clearly Stick Men take the “progressive” part of their musical umbrella very seriously.
So much so, in fact, that the threesome decided to do something different at the mixing stage. Stick Men engage two different mixing engineers, Stefano Castagna and Fabio Trentini, allowing each one to put their own stamp on the recordings. This expands the album into a two-disk set, rightfully dubbed “Reel One” and “Reel Two,” that lets listeners decide for themselves which version they prefer. It sometimes takes a close listen to divine the differences – while Trentini’s stripped-down mixes of “Brutal,” “Dark Birthday” and “Bash Machine,” and heavier take on “Swimming in Tea” constitute obvious distinctions, his only slightly richer mix of “Komodo” may pass by the casual listener. But the choice is still ours, plus Reel Two rearranges the track order, drops a song, and adds three more (the semi-acoustic “Renoir,” the melodic “Carriage Parade,” and the pastoral “Yosemite Sunset”), which makes it equally essential to the overall experience.
Stick Men have long been a beacon in the progressive rock world – they sound little like any other artists, and dedicate themselves to evolution every time they hit the studio. By taking direct inspiration from a band and album that followed that same philosophy and with whom they have close ties, they make Let’s THRAK Again a major opus in their oeuvre, and a future classic in the progressive canon.
