The collaborative CARM project of trumpeter CJ Camerieri inhabits a unique sound world that, thanks to the number of personnel involved, moves surreptitiously through different perspectives, the sense of drama and remove lending a soundtrack quality.
The pieces here, with their widescreen, cinematic quality, share some space with the work of Barry Adamson, producing imagery and feelings that are somehow removed from the day-to-day. CJ’s trumpet playing, around which the pieces entwine, is a thing of gauzy beauty, often reminding of some of Jon Hassell‘s work, its disguise and mystery adding to the careful layering, but with collaborative production power from the likes of Ryan Olson and Justin Vernon, it merges with some modern electronic moods, distancing itself further from anything current.
There is a cleanliness and a feeling of clarity to the production, but also a sense of the otherworldly, hinting at modern minimalism but often gliding through that and encompassing beats and grooves that propel those pieces into a utopian vision that is not easily defined. There is frequently a sense of gradual momentum over which lachrymose horns drape, glistening; and also a sense of self-containment which precludes it from really working as soundtrack material, instead leaving them as vignettes describing scenarios that require something more than song-based structure. When vocals appear, they are often digitised and abstracted ,apart from the simmering melancholy of Edie Brickell on the intimately constructed “More And More”. It is a labour of love, using the studio as a means to perfect the sensations of calm and distance; soundscapes for towns yet to be built, still sitting under their covers awaiting the right moment to shine, each instrument or collaborator adding to the intense detail. The effected vocals add to the futuristic feel and suit this sense of disconnection from mundanity while the horns, banjo, guitar and percussion daub them with a touch of humanity.Towards the end, a particularly euphoric horn combines with a distracted vocal that sees it building toward some Olympian ideal, while closer “The Great Divide” draws upon some unseen liminal space, a soothing exit that helps to gain some perspective on what has really happened here. CJ’s choice of collaborators, his idealistic visions and ear for the future gives these selections a quality that is hard to resist. It is worth checking out just to see how the future night unfold.
-Mr Olivetti-
