Now nearly thirty-five years into their career, Australian improvisational trio the Necks still insist that their initial direction was correct: follow your own instincts and you’ll never go wrong. Few musicians are as singleminded and dedicated to their own distinctive vision as pianist Chris Abrahams, bassist Lloyd Swanton, and drummer Tony Buck, and their latest album proves it.
Though the band carves up its music here into four twenty-minute cuts, instead of the usual sixty-minute opus, Travel follows the band’s usual path: sit down at their instruments and just go. While that makes it sound like every cut sets the meter to blast and wreaks havoc on the microphones, that’s not how these guys do it. The Necks have more interest in taking a relaxed pace, exploring the nooks and crannies of their spontaneous compositions whether through tone or technique. Swanton sets the pace on “Signal” with an ascending/descending bass line, Buck keeps pace with steady cymbal work, and Abrahams leisurely paints the corners with different hues of hazy mystery. “Imprinting” applies shaking percussion and electric piano to the beat to keep the tune percolating. The band evokes the title of “Forming” by eschewing a propulsive advance, sounding like the notes float in a primordial soup and come together to form the first instance of life – appropriate, since the organ-driven “Bloodstream” takes much the same tack.
Every song on Travel is intriguing and compelling, as this band’s music always is, and it’s heartening to see that putting the tunes in bite-sized nuggets (even if the bites are Tyrannosaurus-sized) doesn’t make it any less so.
