Both Dave Symes (bassist of Boy & Bear) and Chris Abrahams (keyboardist with The Necks) have been around on the Australian jazz-adjacent scene for a good few years now, but Distant Birds is their first time collaborating together.
Taking a Necks-style long-form approach to song structure, they have constructed four pieces over two volumes that use rhythmic repetition and respectful interplay to propel the listener into previously unconsidered realms. With trumpeter Ellen Kirkwood and sax man Matt Otignon as well as incisive drummer Evan Mannell, these extended improvisatory journeys are a breathtaking discovery.
The circular insistence of the soulful bass in opener “Drill” is the first thing you notice, its warm charm spread like a lattice through the shimmering drums as they set the tracks down for the others to follow. It is all slippery and addictive, the horns introducing dizzying circles around which electronic textures entwine, with the handovers between horns and keys happening without us even noticing.
Instruments and textures are at different levels in the mix and listening out for a specific part is as engrossing as the whole thing. The brief flurries that emerge from the loping beat are often simple yet insistent and their love of repetitive motifs suits the mood perfectly. Drums become a little more animated as things progress and trade blows with the horns as the supple bass drives on and on, the subtle changes preventing the purity from overwhelming. It is improvisatory but with daubs of colour, and they understand and submit to the need for things to be understated. There is no big show here; it is about momentum and groove and suppleness. “Sea Grass” is slower and more spectral, with rim-heavy percussion and descending keys. It is more measured and leaves more room for the piano to pick its way through. Here both piano and horns have a little more opportunity to stretch their legs and it is very easy to find yourself focusing on one element, particularly when Dave throws in a sweet little double-up on the bass that is just enough to bring you back, with the eddying review-style horns dancing around the electronics murmuring in the background.“Spirit Level” is dubbier, with bass echoing as the slowly skanking horns bring a slightly sultry feel to proceedings. It is more humid, with drums to the fore as the organ sways and the horns grind. It is quite a change of pace and mood, but still the interaction is so respectful and there is plenty of space and opportunity for an idea to be floated, all this enabled by the generosity of the rhythm section. Your perspective on the pieces changes as the different instruments reach out and fall back, and there is a particularly romantic ache to the horns through their insistence on a particular motif as the organ sighs in sympathy.
Final piece “Driver” suits its name with the tempo increased dramatically and there is a kind of panic in the keyboard motif which suits the breakneck pace. The bass is sublime and the drums are stripped-down to the purest motorik efficiency. A repeated six-note motif on what sounds like a vibraphone suits perfectly the rhythmic simplicity. The horns are jazziest here, but still coming from a minimalist direction that goes hand-in-hand with the keyboard dances. Although the rhythmic framework is laid out, they never lose focus and disappear into an improvisation wormhole, and it is this constantly compelling nature that makes the album and the group work so well. It is utterly addictive and so easy to lose yourself in.It isn’t really jazz, touching as it does on dub, motorik, soul and even Afrobeat; and at just over sixty-six minutes, you still feel like it could be a little longer. It must be amazing live; but for now immerse yourself in this and lose yourself for a blissful hour or so.
-Mr Olivetti-
