Slow Machete – Mango Tree (SMTG Ltd.)
Slow Machete’s 2012 release Evening Dust Choir came as something of a surprise, not only because of how unique and hauntingly beautiful it was, but also because of how little coverage it garnered. The project, brainchild of one Joseph Shaffer, consists of field recordings made during aid trips to Haiti, which were then deconstructed and re-arranged into strange, ethereal quasi-ambient, downtempo electronic music. Shaffer has in turn donated all proceeds to the Haitians among whom he worked and lived, allowing the charitable origins that birthed the project to extend their reach even further.
Slow Machete – Mango Tree (SMTG Ltd.)
Slow Machete’s 2012 release Evening Dust Choir came as something of a surprise, not only because of how unique and hauntingly beautiful it was, but also because of how little coverage it garnered. The project, brainchild of one Joseph Shaffer, consists of field recordings made during aid trips to Haiti, which were then deconstructed and re-arranged into strange, ethereal quasi-ambient, downtempo electronic music. Shaffer has in turn donated all proceeds to the Haitians among whom he worked and lived, allowing the charitable origins that birthed the project to extend their reach even further. Why something so artistically well-realized and genuinely gracious of spirit, devoid on both counts of developed nation paternalism, would not be covered more widely is anybody’s guess. And while normally those with an interest in music forged in the wilderness between beaten paths might be tempted to shrug such indifference off as being to the benefit of those in the know and the detriment of those who might have otherwise appreciated it, when the work is undertaken to directly benefit people who genuinely need it, the inclination to let such a project remain a well-kept secret acts at odds with its fundamental intent.
Though comparable in many ways to the first Slow Machete album, Shaffer’s newest EP release, Mango Tree, finds his approach evolving in subtle yet appreciable fashions. The shifts seem organic both in the sense that the contributing musicians and vocalists help define the album’s aesthetic parameters rather than some sort of self-conscious manipulation, but also through a tendency to obscure and alter the source material slightly less than on the previous release. Whereas Evening Dust Choir crafted intricate tonal webs in which choral vocals, found percussion, and disembodied instrumental passages were processed and recontextualized into soundscapes consisting of vaguely familiar elements rendered strange and disorienting, Mango Tree allows these elements more room to shine through and to be clearly represented, more heavily emphasizing both the concreteness and the warmth at the project’s core.
This isn’t to suggest that the approach favored on Slow Machete’s most recent is in any way better or worse than on the debut, nor is it to imply that either variation befits the nature of the project more than the other (though some listeners who preferred Evening Dust Choir‘s electronic abstraction might be put off by things like the saxophone solo on Mango Tree‘s second track, just as those who appreciate the vocal clarity of the newest might find its predecessor’s electronic sheen strange and disconcerting). Each is soundly executed – as the debut reflected an enormous talent appearing seemingly out of nowhere, the latter demonstrates an encouraging development that shows that the project’s ability to incorporate different elements without straying far from the core approach.
With any luck, Slow Machete’s involvement with Richmond-based label SMTG will allow the music to reach the sort of audience deserved by both the music and those who would benefit from its success. The work strikes a variety of balances – experimentalism coexisting with accessibility, charitable intent devoid of Bono/Geldof self-importance, emotional resonance unaffiliated with the saccharine or the maudlin. So much has been made of music’s healing power and cross-cultural communicative ability that the ideas are enshrined in a halo of cliché, but Slow Machete’s music demonstrates each in a practical fashion, devoid of platitude or cheap sentiment and in defiance of cynicism. That this music has few parallels either in terms of aesthetic sophistication or humanitarian nobility is unfortunate, but this rarity in either regard provides all the more reason it needs to be heard.
