For 2023’s transitional Veer, where Das Rad‘s core trio of Martin Archer, Steve Dinsdale and Nick Robinson were supplemented by bassist Jon Short and occasional vocalist Peter Rophone.
Clearly, the quintet line-up must have worked for all concerned, because this ever-progressive group has chosen to move forward as five. Somehow with the addition of new members and specifically an unfettered vocalist, more space has crept in, allowing the assembled pieces much more opportunity to breathe. There must have been a surfeit of ideas as the disc squeaks in at just over seventy-eight minutes; but as with all their previous output, those ideas are free range, roaming over whichever distant landscapes you might try to imagine.
There is a sense of impending tension in the opening salvo, Nick’s distorted guitar stretched taut over a lumbering rhythm, speckles of synth work and wounded sax picking their spiky way through the debris. Where the instruments intersect at moments of busy washing uproar, you gather the feeling that each player has their own agenda, coercing and cajoling at the basic structure.
Unsurprisingly, the most outstanding addition to the brouhaha is Peter’s voice and with the first words he utters being “Get behind me, Satan”, you can’t help but think here is a journey worth undertaking. The voice is dreamy and has the kind of careful enunciation and soft delivery that reminded me of Tim Bowness, but half heard-across some lost timezone. Nick’s untamed guitar accompanies Peter’s dreamy interjections, with the longer pieces drifting in a more abstract manner. Compared to previous outings, this loss of moorings sending them into stormy and uncharted waters is a real change of pace. The words move over the surface, somehow holding together until a rhythm might be gently introduced like an absorbing puzzle requiring all your attention. There are lovely moments where sparse sax notes, diving guitar and textural vocals coalesce to produce a diaphanous covering over the rhythm that breathes life into the song, sometimes shallow and at other times under full load, the delicious bounce of melodic bass shining below the surface.Where the vocals are double-tracked, it lends a pastoral Sixties air, with Steve’s subtleties and Jon’s judicious choice of notes lending an air of portent and Martin’s sax motif the only attempt at structure in another slow build. It takes you by surprise a little when there is an injection of pace; a snappy synth and drum hook-up shuffling the pack and pushing the others into action. The bass is lovely and rich, and it is left to the voice to pick its way carefully, capriciously changing direction and dragging the players with it.
There is a different atmosphere for each track and although the group refers to itself as ‘improg’, it is more the ideas that are progressive. They never allow themselves to become bogged down or for the songs themselves to become saturated with bombast. I mean, there is a medley of four pieces and some of the tracks do run up to the eight- to ten-minute mark; but nothing outstays its welcome and there are tracks where they are held together by the barest wisp of structure, the sense of the disparate sounds travelling enormous distances to eventually meet under the watchful eye of an oozing, pulsing mellotron. Towards the end, you really have the feeling that there is so much more to give; a deep, sinuous, adventurous bass groove eventually giving way to a picked acoustic guitar pitted against a bluster of electric. Other avenues are clearly there to explore and a sense of unfinished business hangs a little over the final moments, as if the group has discovered an unknown avenue and are desperate to explore it, but have run out of time.I have really enjoyed the way that Das Rad have evolved over the last six or seven years, always finding new means of expression yet managing to sound like themselves. This latest chapter is a perfect continuation and a thrill right to the end.
-Mr Olivetti-
