Freewheeling improviser and collaborative double bass player Dominic Lash has an incredibly varied approach, not just to his instrument but to the way he structures the numerous outfits in which he plays.
Recent releases on his own Spoonhunt label give a little indication as to his multifarious activities, and clearly to the warmth and keenness he engenders in his fellow players.
The first release comes under the Dominic Lash Quartet moniker which here includes Alex Ward, Javier Carmona and Ricardo Tejero. Recorded live at Café Oto, its six pieces run the full gamut of inter-group relations from the cacophonous tumult of opener “Alexithymia” to the comparative restraint of “Cylindrical”. Whatever happens though, the group travels as a whole, whether badgering one another to ever more dizzying whirls or just laying a sturdy if shaky base for other’s flights of fancy.Bass and drums go hand in hand on “Alexithymia”, describing a simple circle with two sax notes insistent and opportune. Alex Ward bursts the bubble on guitar, a sudden frenzy but with every note wrung dry. The sax then rips high and free, a series of ear-grazing charges tied to the guitar lines to prevent escape. It is murky down below and a lot is happening, and you can feel the bass, strident and blended, while cymbals fly around your head. The alternating guitar and sax scorches feel on the verge of bursting and so the album begins.
The comparative restraint of “Cylindrical” is lulling; the sax and guitar blend and weave as the subtle percussion lends a bed of rushes on which to place these dreaming figures. Tension simmers and you can feel the effort to raise the slumbering bodies. There is an awkward edginess that is very different to the opener, but the constant rolling of the drums is the point to which all else returns. The walking bass of “Dactyloscopy” reawakens a more classic boppy feel, but with what Alex Hawkins describes aptly in the liner notes as a desire to worry at a particular thread. These little nagging moments are explored and pushed often beyond comfort into a fresh sense of hypnosis, with notes paired unexpectedly but successfully with fleeting hints of familiarity in the odd chord or ringing phrase.Generally Dom’s bass sits well in the background, urging on and tying adroitly to the percussive flow; but on “From A Theme By F.S”, his slow, sawing shapes come to the fore and as his compadres drop off, so his warm yet unnerving ventures nag and play with the audience. The joy and sense of adventure is palpable and it seems every section of the instrument is used to portray these feelings. At points, this track comes on like an Ennio Morricone outtake, with its descriptive tension and slow breath appearing as if from the edge of dreams and really changing our whole impression of the instrument.
From here as the set concludes, the players pull at and needle one another, tugging in different directions, with the bass constantly searching in dusty corners for new ways of teasing the absolute most from a seemingly finite note, the groups a dervish of insistence as they rattle and plumb, finding cool and viscous ways of responding and interacting. An appreciative crowd adds to the feeling of new ground and and air of satisfaction is tempered by the desire to continue indefinitely. This is a welcome addition to his confounding discography and you just know there is more to come.
For the second of Dom Lash’s releases on Spoonhunt, his fortieth birthday celebrations found him gathering nineteen friends together at Café Oto for one of his rare outings as leader of a large ensemble. There is an impressive list of names here and the tally of instruments slightly boggles the mind as to how they all managed to squeeze into a space like Oto; but the result is quite the most dynamic introduction to Dom’s abilities in this field.
Amongst the instruments listed we find steel sink, metal detector, amplifier and a Korg, along with the more traditional strings and percussion; and you can almost picture them as they gauge one another’s reactions, some favouring drawn-out groans and others brief staccato reminders of what can be. The whole thing moves sinuously around the stage, the waft of harmonium and the amplifier buzz helping to contain the nagging at the edges.
It is interesting listening for the different instruments and how their separate characters combine and interact as the piece progresses, growing in stature and the spaces and voids are filled. Some instruments resemble insects, and the low growls and staccato stabs give the impression of a jungle scene, one of stealth and steady progress. There is an inevitability to the momentum which at some points resembles an ancient piece of machinery cranking into life; the mellow throb of oiled gears meshing with the rusted graunch of lesser-seen parts, cyclical repetition against one-off pregnant drones. Although there are many sounds, the overall effect is somehow never dense, and the full weight of what is on offer starts to appear around two-thirds of the way through as the drones become more drawn out and the massed ranks of low register make their presence felt. At points, it feels as though there is a competition to see who can sustain the longest drone while around them flit sparks of light and shade, brief scorched that leave a spectre in the air.It moves in slow waves, the crescendo peaks and troughs becoming higher and lower, the waveband widening as all these flurries and flares are overset by a bass rhythm of slow inexorability and vibrancy. You can almost feel the blood of the players flow as everything merges, and you are carried away to the final flourish.
This is quite a way to celebrate your fortieth and I feel somewhat envious of those that were present. This is an essential addition to the improv canon and just another example of Dominic’s expanding capabilities. What possibly could come next?-Mr Olivetti-
