Greydisc 2017
& CARL CLEMENTS –
Even This Late It Happens
Five years and five albums into their collaboration, American minimalists finally fulfill a reverie that’s been tormenting the two in search of realization.
There’s a special rapport between the usually lute-minded Kevin Kastning and the reeds-wielding Carl Clements that saw them trying to enrich sketches which are scattered across a handful of records now with convincing gravity, yet such a task proved elusive and 2016’s "A Far Reflection" – this album’s predecessor – seemed satisfied in an introvert environment, so the crepuscular joy of “Even This Late It Happens” can’t help but calmly surprise.
While CC and KK’s oeuvre is more often than not defined by its fleeting nature, “To The Presence Of Movement” appears well-anchored – the latter’s sax refusing to soar and keeping the former’s guitar grounded – with a melody crawling out of the piece’s green mist, whereas the jolly elegy of “A Veil Of Absence” will be resolved in quite a tangible, if jazzy, way. More so, the barely-there licks of “Imaginary Chapters” demonstrate a post-bop aroma to their shimmer, although the strum and blow in “Circles And Waiting” create truly intense expectancy before giving “Words Laid Upon A Table” a deceptively formless flow.
Yet, of course, there’s always intrigue in there to infuse “Corridors Unconsidered” with a flute-led fluid futility and to wrap the sparseness behind “No Longer Known; No Longer In Sight” in unpredictable, brooding beauty where brass may be anything but bold, and strings come spectral – only to snap and spank toward the end. Still, it takes “The Wings Of Night” to wind down this quiet adventure with the most intimate dialogue of two acoustic instruments and reveal their rapport once again. Better late than never, yet it happened: the minimalists’ work turned out to be opulent.
****1/3
