Tres Warren & Jeff Burch: S/T
The Spring Press

This self-titled release from Tres Warren and Jeff Burch is billed as “their first and last collaborative LP” for one very unfortunate reason: Warren, the lead vocalist and guitarist of the New York-based experimental outfit Psychic Ills, passed away shortly after its 200-copy pressing was produced. Rather than the release holding the promise of future collaborations between the two, it acts as a memorial to and celebration of a creative spirit silenced at the age of forty-one. It wasn't the first time, by the way, Warren and Burch recorded together, with the latter's self-titled 2014 release on Important Records including guitar contributions from Warren.

The tonal character of the collaboration is in keeping with the respective artists' areas of concentration. Psychic Ills' recordings capture the band's interest in, among other things, '60s psychedelia and trippy electronic pieces, and long instrumental passages also surface in the group's music. The solo albums Burch issued in 2014 and 2017 likewise reflect a preoccupation with long-form instrumental compositions, the earlier release comprised of two extended pieces only, and the later set, issued on Burch's own The Spring Press, evoking American minimalism, LaMonte Young's Theatre of Eternal Music, and figures such as Tony Conrad and Alice Coltrane.

The new release features three improvisations recorded over an intensely hot summer in a tiny apartment on East Village's seventh street, conditions one imagines would be conducive to the kind of mind-melting meditations presented. Electronics, guitar, jaw harp, organ, percussion, and ukelin (a bowed psaltery with zither strings) were among the instruments used to generate the productions. Side A's wholly occupied by “Morning and Evening Shadow Part One & Two (for Ukelin),” a twenty-minute, raga-like dive. Ukelin's obviously the central sound-generator, though others are also seemingly present when the material's awash in grinding organ tones and gleaming drones. Audible behind the outermost layer are short noodling figures that conjure the Moroccan mystery of hidden opium dens and other kinds of intrigue. That two-part detail in the title isn't just for show either, as a transition from the one to the other does occur at the halfway mark, even if the character of the material largely stays the same throughout.

The second side begins with “Eastern Window (for Jaw Harp),” the insistent twang of the instrument a good fit for its eight hazy minutes, after which “New Smoke (for Organ)” unspools a slow-motion drone of subtly mutating pitches, with a tiny melodic motif looping softly in the background in a manner reminiscent of the opening side's setting. Presumably Burch will carry on recording and issuing material under his own name, but it's a shame more sets by him and Warren won't materialize beyond this one.

June 2020