One of the great things about the fragmenting of the music industry in recent times and the willingness of people to search for forgotten gems is the number of surprising discoveries to be made.
Here, Computer Students have uncovered the only album produced by Boston-based Lynx, a turn of the millennium instrumental quartet whose silverfish flourishes and head-spinning interplay shared some elements with the likes of Don Caballero and Polvo from the Touch & Go camp and Sonna and Rumah Sakit from the Temporary Residence family, but developing under their own steam in a town more renowned for the likes of Lemonheads, Pixies and Throwing Muses.
Amassing tracks in the late nineties and finding places to play, the group became tightly drilled and when they entered the studio the results had been honed to precision points, the sharp tones of the guitars, the tightly skinned drums, the veering, wayward rhythms. It would have been awkward to dance to as Dale Connolly‘s oblique, stuttering patterns lent further dizziness to the already diverse tonal directions, the sounds picked clean of any excess, purity of tone adding to the tension. At points it feels as though you are watching somebody defuse a bomb, the ticking guitar often a prelude to some explosive finale, time disappearing and you not knowing what on earth may happen next.The interplay between all four is sublime to a point where it is impossible to tell who is leading. There is a telepathy at play which is hard for the listener to comprehend. How do they all know when to abruptly come to a halt or change direction? These are questions to which only further listening may possibly supply answers, but in some respects that magic is something for which we all search in music and this album has it is abundance. No one track stands out; it is more akin to watching a fast flowing river, its appearance constantly changing, unable to rest, momentum and gravity compelling its permanent state of flux.
It is no surprise that guitarist Dave Konopka went on to Battles, who expanded and perhaps further embellished what we have here, nor also that it was produced by Bob Weston, such a staple of Chicago’s musical story; but Lynx existed in their own little world and this artefact is essential for anyone interested in that Chicago sound and instrumental guitar-based rock in general.They are slower and more measured, with the tones somehow more nuanced, not quite so stark. Human Speech feels heavier, as if it has more mass but still takes unexpected directions and the drums sound as if they are being played while simultaneously being kicked down the stairs. Lynx are still willing to nag at a thread and haven’t lost their desire to explore.
The music is timeless, fitting in anywhere and still sounding relevant and welcome. These tracks don’t have quite the flighty nature of the earlier material and the guitar roars a little more, riffing recognisably. They are not trying to replicate what came before in the unique dynamics of the album; but it is still a joy to hear the guitars snake around one another and for the bass to step lightly around the precarious drumming.Computer Students have done a lovely job of bringing this to vinyl, so head on over to their site and enhance your record collection. You should pick up the Cheval de Frise album while you are there as well.
-Mr Olivetti-
