MWM / MoonJune 2026
Phoenician polymath puts out his sophomore effort that’s sophisticated and funny in equal measure – because there’s a season for for every activity under the heavens.
OK, But Why?
A staggering quarter of a century has passed since the world first listened to Anthony Garone’s guitar on his pater’s "The Epic Of Gilgamesh" and almost a score of years since the Arizonan artist released his inaugural solo platter “Within” before he seemed to switch from performing music to serving, among other things, as a musicologist. Some may suggest that was a result of Anthony’s frustration over mastering of a certain KING CRIMSON classic – in terms of playing, rather than preserving the sound; a creative exercise which lasted two decades and more than deserved to become a subject of a book – and his keeping busy with various projects, such as proofreading transcriptions of the aforementioned ensemble’s albums. Still, the real reason behind the delay in Garone Jr’s artistic career can boil down to his desire to make what’s titled “OK, But Why?” as entertaining and exhilarating as it is experimental and, well, educational – and he excelled at this task.
The outcome of Anthony’s second full-length offering is fairly uneven, because proper songs – including the life-affirming pop-rock piece “My Garden” that’s emotionally voiced by his father – emerge only in the second half of the record, where three borrowed numbers also dwell. But if the freshly folk-informed, lushly arranged and acoustically tinged “Erudite Eyes” from the GILES, GILES AND FRIPP repertoire refracts Garone’s own vocals through cheerful insanity as captured in the album’s cover artwork, his exquisite approach to two fragments of Bach’s Concerto for Violin and Oboe are little short of breathtaking. However, one can assume there’s a game going on for everybody to join in and guess the gist of the proceedings.
Not for nothing opener “Binge” demonstrates arresting fuzziness in the space between Michael Manring’s hefty bass and Morgan Ågren’s effects-laden drums, gradually allowing their host’s licks to float to the surface to wander the wondrous planes of sonic existence and mingle with Steve Ball’s fingerwork, as the echoes of the yet-unharnessed “Fracture” lurk in the shadows. And it’s not coincidentally followed by the deliberately rough “Three Legged Dog” which stumbles around a broken tango, determined to produce a smile on the audience’s faces and let Jan Zehrfeld unleash a burst of faux-symphonic assault.
So while “Deathtrap” thrives on finely polished, impressively filigreed shredding that’s dipped into delicious harmonies, “Harnch 2.0” spices its nervous elegy with flurries of strategically placed notes. And whereas the funky “Dance” – which features another family member, Gabe Garone, on the elegantly adventurous piano – manages to bare jazzy vibe in the overall fusion jive, “Pune” does the same in a more spunky fashion, spurned by Jake Ineck’s majestically multitracked scat and the main man’s precariously stacked parts.
So though “Brex” adds Paul Hanson’s bassoon to its instrumental palette to make the tune’s pseudo-retro setting even more interesting so that Anthony’s riffs could feel liberated, “Trust” dissolves into vulnerable balladry, with Chris Misterek’s sentimental singing leading the supple rumble of Rob Miller’s bass and ripple of Daniel Shin’s ivories towards ultimate pleasure, until Grace Guthrie’s violin lines and Garone’s six-string passages elevate the entire experience to something otherworldly. As a contrast, “Crush” – on which Anthony is sharing plectrum duties with Gretchen Menn over Owen Dueck’s frenetic beats – chases metallic delights, picking up where Khachaturian left off, and “Tingz” compromises its inner melancholy via angularity and haphazard crackling in under a minute.
“OK, But Why?” has many more surprises which will be revealed during new spins – and new spins are guaranteed for this record that keeps on giving.
*****
