Necessary Tension's smooth and shivery sounds stir up the senses
Turns out I should've listened to my roommate. I've been missing one incredible band.
Necessary Tension, a Thursday night fixture at Rudyard's, creates phenomenal acid jazz. Word has it the lineup changes nightly, with the musicians playing until they feel like getting a beer and letting someone else take over.
On the CD, Bob Chadwick (flute, alto flute, bansuri and quena), Harry Sheppard (vibes), David Craig (bass), Keith Karnaky (drums), Jeff Gleason, Nick Cooper, Mike Mizma (all congas), Erich Avinger (guitar), Erin Wright (bass), David Cutia and Paul Ramirez (both percussion) sculpt trippy instrumental music that soothes and stirs the senses at the same time.
Some CDs are simply great. Others, while good, reflect a band that's at its forte on a live stage. Necessary Tension fits in the latter category. The 17-track, 73-minute CD deserves praise itself, but it belies a band that must be absolutely orgasmic on stage. I can only image what their atmospheric jams must be like. The thought sends shivers down my spine.
Actually, the CD comes close to creating the live ambient experience and serves as a recorded history of the Thursday night odysseys from Sept. 1994 to June 1995. Peppered with applause and crowd noise, the CD approximates the performance atmosphere. But it's still not the same.
Fortunately, Necessary Tension still stands on its own as an outstanding collection of ephemeral jazz. As a whole, the CD makes satisfying background music just as easily as it withstands undivided attention.
It's hard to evaluate individual tracks because they segue so seamlessly into one another. The only indication of change comes when the counter on my CD player advances.
The music wriggles away from me and also defies easy classification. It's anything but predictable. Peripatetic flute melodies soar over sensuous percussion. The music could easily function as a psychedelic soundtrack for all sorts of hallucinations and psychic journeys.
It could just as easily satisfy perfectly sober critics, out to hone their aural skills on some very impressive technical musicianship. These guys know their instruments.
Personally, I prefer to leave the technical evaluations to music teachers and let myself be transported by the visceral pleasure of Necessary Tension's esoteric music. It's kind of like sex; putting it into words just can't do the experience justice. The sonorous, susurrant, sibilant melodies wrap me in aural delight. Again and again, the jazz builds to climaxes, teases and finally resolves the dissonance it creates. The necessary tension produces a heady release.
Suddenly, going to the Pub this Thursday doesn't look quite so exciting. See you at Rudyard's.
This item appeared in the Opinion section of the December 8, 1995 issue.
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