The tracks presented here were originally intended for Philippe Petit‘s Strings of Consciousness collective, but after their break-up, the songs clearly needed a good home and so Philippe has re-activated the And Friends moniker. Considering the wealth of different talent here, including some regular collaborators, it is very fitting.
Opener ‘The Hammer And The Compliant Man” has Oxbow‘s Eugene S Robinson on vocals. Having already collaborated on two albums, Eugene’s crazy tale of some kind of rip-off where the protagonists “fall down five flights of stairs, laughing and laughing, a voice still behind us” fits perfectly into Philippe’s soundscape. Eugene’s hopped-up braying delivery, slightly psychotic and frazzled is badgered and harassed by the insistent repetition of a dirty Martin Rev-like beat. There are some rather pretty keys here and there, but the battering ram of a beat doesn’t allow it to settle.
It is quite an opener and really sits at odds with “Bakaltag”, which follows after the sparse fuzzed out café sounds of “Interlude”. Maja Jantar‘s vocalising moves like an eastern ghost, drifting further into the desert accompanied by random skeletal sounds and an electric harp. Andy Diagram is also here on trumpet and his tender scorch marks are like slow chalk lines on a night sky, Maja’s vocals gradually turning restless and attempting to use the dusty marks to join up the stars glinting in the sky. Philippe seems to offer the friends gathered here opportunities to enact some vocal fantasies that they may not do in their solo careers. Jad Fair is unrecognisable, his voice pitch shifting up and down from doomy baritone to Pinky And Perky jerkiness over a pretty gentle hot night soundcape, litter filling the streets and steam rising from the manhole covers. Elsewhere, “Black Dog” has Charlie Finke‘s melodramatic story delivered over the most industrial rhythm, with chains and bells clanging and scorching Rowland S Howard-like guitar from Hervé Vincenti making it a little too uncomfortable to relax, while Seth Herbert Paergolzia‘s Scott Walker-like croon nestles gently into the sweet trumpet and glissando keyboard lines of “Charleton Sight”. The electric harp here is a strange sound that is tempered by the almost Spanish sound of the trumpet, in a dreaminess that you may not have expected and is rather lovely.The penultimate track features the ubiquitous Lydia Lunch delivering an incisive monologue, apparently form the viewpoint of somebody being tried for sedition or something like it. The powers that be seem to want to stop this person from fomenting rebellion, and I kept thinking it could be partly autobiographical or certainly written from an understanding perspective. Her sinuous, acid voice is the focus here and Philippe scatters an array of random percussion including cimbalom and psalterion around in the background. It doesn’t detract from the vocals, but lends a distant texture to the proceedings and in some way prepares you for the final track “On Top Of The Pyramid Of The Sun In Teotihuacan”.
Here, Heike Aumuller of Kammerflimmer Kollektief takes vocal duties on a thirteen-minute epic that finds Bristol’s Bela Emerson on cello and Nicholas Dick along with Hervé on guitar, creating a circle of sound overhead like dust rising in the heat of the morning sun. Heike’s voice is dreamy and deep, insinuating its gentle way into your head, seductive against the mild turbulence created by the strings. The song just runs and runs, becoming a mantra with the mournful cello watching impassively as Heike’s voice becomes haggard and distraught while the eternal drone continues. It is like a lifetime has passed on top of the pyramid, but the musical accompaniment lives on, gradually fading from our ears but existing elsewhere always and forever.-Mr Olivetti-
