Unconscious Collective – Pleistocene Moon (Tofu Carnage Records)
Even the most devoted fans of free jazz would likely agree that, at this point in time, an artist’s output bearing that particular genre tag can be cause for some trepidation, especially when it’s some cross-pollination with another style.
Unconscious Collective – Pleistocene Moon (Tofu Carnage Records)
Even the most devoted fans of free jazz would likely agree that, at this point in time, an artist’s output bearing that particular genre tag can be cause for some trepidation, especially when it’s some cross-pollination with another style. Too often artists – and I refer more to fringe rock groups of varying stripes than anybody else – mistake the dissonance of Albert Ayler, Ornette Coleman, and Sun Ra for something easy to replicate, not recognizing that, though making noise may be easy, crafting work that approaches the spiritual and emotional resonance of the genre’s originators is much more difficult.
So to read descriptions of Dallas-based trio Unconscious Collective that incorporate the dreaded free jazz tag (to say nothing of “ritualistic,” another term beaten nearly to death by legions of bands who think that some candles on stage or deer skulls on the merch table are at all equivalent to any sort of meaningful ceremony) might be cause for hesitation. However, the band’s output justifies putting aside concerns. The group’s second release sees them incorporate elements of free jazz and heavier rock music in such equal measure that neither seems like a half-baked window dressing for the other. The jazz elements are sparse and pensive, the rock elements fiery and tightly-wound. Neither overwhelms the other, nor gives in to the sort of self-indulgence that often characterize jazz-rock mixtures.
While the album’s comparitively heavier moments convey the idea that Unconscious Collective possess compositional chops as well as improvisational ability, the more subdued and abstract passages convey the pensive, mysterious qualities the band seems to be attempting to impart upon their music. This isn’t to suggest that the quasi-prog workouts are at all out of place, only that the more starkly contrasting passages push the totality of the music into stranger, more unsettling territory than it might otherwise have gone.
On the whole, any recommendation for checking out this album can’t come without the caveat that, though it’s well-conceived and executed, sidestepping so many pitfalls that would sabotage a lesser band, the content would hardly be something that most listeners would enjoy. Only occasionally paying lip service to conventional ideas of rhythm, tonality, and structure (with even the brief manifestations of each still appearing in an off-kilter, disorienting fashion), Unconscious Collective prove themselves able to draw artfully from distinct points on music’s extreme fringes. On Pleistocene Moon, the band combines each element of inspiration into something keenly aware of what made their predecessors great, without attempting to create some sort of half-hearted replica.
