Charles Rumback and Ryley Walker – Little Common Twist

Thrill Jockey

Ryley Walker has been leading any interested parties a merry dance since his career started in earnest with 2015’s Primrose Green. I was talking to somebody who had taken a friend to see him this year at The Fleece in Bristol, expecting the pretty psych-folk of that album and ending up with the post-jazz extrusions of The Dave Matthews Band, which flies in the face of everything, including the source material.

It makes sense therefore that this album with Charles Rumback is yet another volte face, with both artists deferring to the other in a way that is delicate and complementary. The tracks hereon were recorded between 2017 and 2018, but it appears to be a natural fit for the two to perform together. Both have been quite busy since 2016’s Cannots, so to squeeze this into their schedules must dictate a certain keenness to perform together and the results are proof indeed.

There is a gentle sparseness to the opener “Half Joking”, with the patter of drums following the sweet Pied Piper guitar wherever it leads. Deep cymbal washes and gentle fills provide the texture to the piece that dwells in the shadow of the guitar and brings to mind the Thrill Jockey sound of old that the likes of Pullman once produced. It evokes that crisp Americana sound, but put through a contemporary filter and standing as a reaction to Ryley’s post-jazz excesses. In fact, at times it is so spare you can almost see the notes lingering, climbing into the air with the cymbal shades and cuffs accompanying their ascension. Harmonics appear at random on “Self Blind Sun”, but the pace is glacial and the percussion is like melting ice, dripping through chasms over which the two sit playing lost in thought, the piece moving at some inexplicable whim.

Nick Macri assists with double bass on “Idiot Parade”, but it is purely textural and it is left to Charles to lend the track its momentum. Producer John Hughes assists with synth washes and there is hardly any obvious guitar presence here at all. If anything, the abstraction produced here is just a backdrop for the skittish drums, but they are also capable of producing texture as the circling of the skins on “And You, These Sang” proves. The drums are tinkered with, phased and out of focus on “Menehbi”, but there is something irresistible as a rhythm does emerge from the synth and guitar drone. It is hard to know who is producing which sound, but you can’t mistake the guitar on the John Fahey-esque “Ill-Fitting / No Sickness”, and there is something almost Celtic in the playing that sits with the rim shots and odd timing of the drumming.

The back seat that one artist assumes when the other is taking a brief opportunity to shine is deft and respectful. At other times, both sink into the background, allowing the synchronicity of the two to be the guiding force. The rumour of sound on “If You Are Around And Down”, drifting and subliminal, finds the drum peeking in corners, the cymbals looking through uncleaned windows at the peace inside. The dichotomy of inside and out is expansive; the dusty stillness against the vibrant late evening glow, one energised and ready to grapple with the sleepy torpor inside.

The gradual increase of volume and activity is all about Charles, whereas the final track finds the exaltation of Ryley’s shimmering guitar, preparing a homecoming of sorts, looking towards the expectation of Charles’ patient drums. It is almost shoe-gaze with its gauzey textures; but gauzey with an edge, as if the gossamer were somehow sharp and gnawing. It is another unexpected direction in an album which shares elements of the familiar with the path less expected, making for a pretty laid-back treat.

Rumback and Walker sound as though they could release an album a week and they wouldn’t tire of each other’s company, and that is what makes Little Common Twist so special.

-Mr Olivetti-