London 29 May 2006
Drones, reedy and thin, waft out in layers of rolling minimal bliss. They increase dutifully in number and density until the Empire is suffused with them, Alexander Tucker switching pedals and setting up loops of harmonic intensity, nodding like a monk at prayer into his devotional music. The huge bass tone which emanates from his acoustic guitar is a wonder to behold, though from further away than right at the edge of the stage his indistinct vocals are lost somewhere in the shining miasma.
At first, Tucker’s set sounds like it has been made in software, machine shop Blues generated without melody or rhythm: and then they arrive at last, inhabiting the stoned territories mapped out by the likes of Spacemen 3, with flittering moments of Comus-like cod mystical tripout soundtracks for movies yet to be made
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