Consider The Source 2015
New York trio wrap up their trilogy with a large scale panorama of what has been, what is and what should never be.
In an unexpected turn of events, defying logic if not logistics, CTS follow-up the inaugural installment of their deceptively dystopian saga with its last two chapters that come as a brace expanding the erstwhile 23-minute promise into a whopping 2-hour vista of hope. It makes sense, though, as this double-CD set works up a wholly singular experience where harsh reality, hung on heavy riffs, is counterbalanced with Middle Eastern and Eastern European folk themes drawing on fantasy. Close to the end of the suite, “I’ll Fight For The Imp” builds a funky belligerence to reflect on Tyrion Lannister’s inspirational, and indulgent, walk of life, yet the cover of PACHORA’s “Aquarians” leads the listener in with Gabriel Marin’s guitar doing the Indian dance, which borders on Celtic to demonstrate an ideal aspect of globalization: the unity we strive for.
Entrancing in places – but humorous, too, as the klezmer swirl under “Absence Of A Prominent Tooth,” the bluegrass bit of “Tsim Sha Tsui” and the retrofuturistic buzz of “You Are Obsolete” prove – for each quiet moment on display, there’s a frenetic rush of emotions, as flurries of licks paint a turmoil and tumult. These are ruffled, rather than grounded, with John Ferrara’s bass, dry in the desert rocking of “One Hundred Thousand Fools” where Jeff Mann’s percussion measures the band’s dynamic, and CTS’s take on PARADOX TRIO’s “A Monument To Compromise” is as uncompromising in its constantly shifting pace as it gets for an exploration of the twang.
Here’s a sharp contrast between the rhythmic assault and smooth vocalise that’s poured into a fluid six-string caress in the harmonies-stacking “Many Words Of Disapproval,” and “40% Gentleman, 60% Scholar” distills this flow into sensual dewdrops of progressive stripe. Acquiring a space scope for the three-part “So Say We All” – a trinity microcosm – it introduces a trick of light to the tunnel’s end, as the previously dark vision gets transparent now, although the acoustic exotica of “More Than You’ll Never Know” with its saz and dutar adds tension to the new outlook. So albeit “White People Problems” gives a punchy edge to the arresting melodic agenda, “You Are Disappearing” chases away all the worries of the world to color the trilogy’s finale with unexpected optimism. Quite a way to pacifism!