Two very different releases in a short space of time show the many sides of Canadian improv noise gang EarthBall. Having been fortunate enough to catch them live at The Little Bully in Oxford and then to chat with them afterwards, it transpires that each show that they play is one-off improvised set that leads them wherever they go. Therefore it makes sense to compile some of these live performances for the benefit of those who were unfortunate enough not to attend.
There is a sense of industry coming to a halt, except for the horn that runs wild and free. The slow cohesion of drums and bass textures infuriate the horn, which in turn sets off some ferocious percussive bursts. Jeremy Van Wyke‘s voice is an irate thrust surfing over the lava flow and as things progress, so drummer John Brennan seems to sprout extra limbs while the bass plucks out a descending semi-groove that takes over for a while.
Isobel’s voice is like a bored siren drawing the listener in, only to discard them when the mood changes although the groove continues to offer solace until chaos descends. Theirs is a ongoing battle between chaos and order, with a kind of liminal position where they strip everything away and so the peace towards the end is a kind of gloopy surprise. The second side, recorded a few days earlier at EKKO in the Netherlands, is a more structured proggy proposition at the start. The sense of frustration is palpable and the horns throw apoplectic shapes and it even affects the rhythm section. The guitars are sticky, sweltering abstractions, scuffed and stretched as the bass rumbles ever onwards.The beauty of the live stuff is the sudden changes in direction as one player follows a whim; here it is stultified and dreamy as the guitars and drums rain clattering percussives on tin rooftops before turning into a desperate post-punk stumble, a horn-fuelled juggernaut injected with adrenaline. You can almost see the crowd flinging their heads with abandon as the tempo increases, then slowing to a crawl of stab-filled sleaze.
It is interesting how the guitar sections tend to hold more tension, as if awaiting re-ignition; and as the record crawls to a conclusion, you feel a bit like somebody who has set off a firework and is deliberating on the risk of going over to see. Both sides show the band working well but in different ways and the more you play, the more you discover.
A few months previously, the latest studio album dropped and although the group seems to approach the studio in a similar way, there is some structure. Outside Over There contains eight very different tracks and with five members bringing ideas and two vocalists with contrasting approaches, you know the outcome will be diverse.
Starting out with a Stewart Lee routine over howling guitar noise, they launch into a pummelling post-punk rhythm. John is quite the impressive drummer and fights his way through the squall of angry guitars. They suit Jeremy’s voice, which is pushed along by the depth-charge bass.
The ’80s New York vibe permeates it all, but there is a sense of doubt when things slow to a mellow crawl. You are suspicious about the change, which even includes the vocals that take on a Mogadon crawl. An exercise in suppressed tension, the title tracks breaks the side up with only the horns attempting to escape the pull.
Across the record, the background is full of textures, a compelling, misfiring clutter that helps in their ability to generate an atmosphere. When things do slow down and become slightly quieter, the voice steps forward as they hold sounds under the microscope and properly inhabit them. The repeated line “Seeing doors unlock” has a sinister quality, and you find yourself wondering which doors and what lurks behind them. They move from momentum to stasis with ease, but that does not translate to the listener and is anything the more aggressive moments are where you feel safer. The second side finds Izzy’s voice like tarnished gold, while other voices and the sax echo like they are trapped in a cavern, the vocal textures ebbing and flowing over a monolithic rhythm. The drums really bite down and have a bit more space on this side, reflecting a tribal memory on “Behind The Mall” before pouring propulsive power all over the final piece.Jeremy sounds as though he is gong to have a stroke, such is the splenetic rage he summons up to keep up with the sax’s tantrums. The guitars are all about broken glass texture entwined around the intermittent flows of rage. You feel there is plenty of frustration bottled up in the mantra-like repetition and it takes the sax to gradually drag them out of a locked groove limbo before collapsing with exhaustion.
As a follow up to the wonderful It’s Yours, Outside Over There works really well, taking elements of that album’s sound and expanding on them, but also finding other ways to dig themselves under your skin. Both these albums are essential for very different reasons and fulfil very different desires.-Mr Olivetti-
