Elijah McLaughlin Ensemble: III
Astral Spirits
The third album from Elijah McLaughlin's Chicago-based outfit expands dramatically on the sound world of its predecessor, issued last year on Tompkins Square and titled as prosaically as the latest one. The instrumental core on II—six- and twelve-string guitarist McLaughlin, upright bassist Jason Toth, and hammered dulcimer player Joel Styzens—are augmented on III by pianist Adler Scheidt and, on four of the six pieces, cellist Katinka Kleijn. Adding further to the dizzying sonorities the ensemble generates, McLaughlin judiciously weaves analog synths, tape loops, and field recordings into the recording; at thirty-eight minutes, IIII also lends itself well to a vinyl format (500 copies). Laid down at the Fine Arts Building Studio in Chicago, the album offers the listener a heady excursion ablaze with ecstasy and wonder.
A brief “Intro” seduces the ear by coupling Kleijn's bowing with nebulous electronic textures before “Headwaters” exposes the listener to world music roar. Bass synthesizers undergird high-velocity guitar and dulcimer strums during this first energized expression of the ensemble's identity, after which “Parallax” finds Kleijn threading cello cries in amongst the rapid sweep of McLaughlin's fingerpicking. Returning somewhat to the ambient-drone character of the opening piece, “Point of Departure” finds the expanded unit plunging into an oceanic meditation. At two minutes, the folk-tinged reverie “Tributary” comes and goes quickly, but it's long enough for the interplay between the leader, Toth, and Styzens to make a strong impression. Enhancing the music's serene tone, “Braided River” includes field recordings of chirping birds and gushing water collected by McLaughlin's seven-year-old son during a visit to the western Wisconsin region where the guitarist and his dad make annual fly-fishing treks.
A long-form, eighteen-minute exercise in controlled ecstasy, “Coloring of Lake/Sky” transitions from initial flurries of strums and picking into a swelling mass that engulfs the listener with dynamic ebb and flow. Like a living organism, the buzzing swarm contracts and expands like a feverish minimalist drone you might have overheard roaring from a NYC loft space in 1966. Nearing the twelve-minute mark, the tempo accelerates furiously, the move calling to mind whirling dervishes, before slowing for a peaceful coda. As the album shifts between folk settings and trippy meditations, the ensemble shows itself to be a mobile and versatile unit ever capable of adapting to the directions the music pursues. On a final note, Kleijn's contributions are so significant, McLaughlin would be wise to offer the cellist full-member status in the ensemble. Her bowing provides an expansive counterpoint and complement to the playing of McLaughlin and Styzens, making for a front-line of cello, acoustic guitar, and dulcimer one would be hard pressed to find anywhere else.March 2023