Blueblut are a playful bunch comprised of ex-Led Bib leader and solo performer Mark Holub, producer and label head Mark Janka and ex-Barbez bassist and theremin player Pamelia Stickney.
They veer around the edges of forms, picking the little slippery snippets they like and stitching them loosely into and avant-prog stew that simmers nicely. The jauntiness and good humour of the playing is there for all to hear and across six incredibly diverse workouts, they take the listener by the hand across the playgrounds and beerhalls of their minds.
Essentially a guitar / percussion / Theremin trio, they invite friends to add a little colour here and there; but their own use of loops and samples means that the self-contained sound is rich with texture, the shaker rhythm of opener “Cocktail” vying with the exuberant sounds of people enjoying themselves. The rhythms across the album swing and move at a whim, and the percussive splendour of “Clarinot” feels akin to taking a spring walk, constantly stopping to marvel at the beauty surrounding us, watching the clouds or smelling the flowers. It might play havoc with pace and there are points where it becomes overexcited, but it is worth it for the joy.
There are Bulgarian voices abounding on “Aumba” and they lend a sublime air and try to still the awkward guitar, bobbing and weaving. Rhythms emerge from the cocoon of what came before, lending power and propulsion and you can almost hear the changes waiting in the wings like some sort of fleet-footed relay race with effects subtly prompting the segues as a voice slips from German to English without a care. The trio offers a unique proposition and on the long form “Arrobark”, they head off into sea shanty territory; but it is an inland shanty, a folky shade, woodblock percussion highlighting an unsettled lust for exploring. It is all entwined in the Theremin that pops up in unexpected places, a joyous journey full of light smiles and beatless limbo refracted through found sounds and samples that lend an outdoor feel.Towards the end, the distorted Theremin is let off the lead on the short wig-out “Tuna”, which leads into the bizarrest take on “Tequila” you’ll ever hear. It is like a drunk garage band took a swing at it. But then they grew distracted and headed off in another direction, only to try something else but never quite forgetting what they were supposed to be doing originally. It is a real cracker and just sums up the joy and irreverence at the heart of the band.
All the way through irresistibility is the watchword on Lutebulb, so take it to your heart.
-Mr Olivetti-
