By Martin Schray
Reed duets are complicated, and writing about them is even more complicated. Musically, we actually have two solo instruments that are sonically close to each other, meaning there are hardly any textures against which either instrument could stand out. When writing about them, it is easy to fall into platitudes or obvious comparisons, such as saying that the duets sound like listening to a dialogue between songbirds (I have succumbed to this temptation too). But on their first duo album, Mats Gustafson and Liudas Mockūnas make it easy not to fall into this trap.
First of all, these two true veterans of the NoBusiness label sound very different, which is also reflected in their choice of instruments. Gustafsson can be heard on flute, slide flute, baritone saxophone and live electronics, while Mockūnas can be heard on several high saxophone types such as sopranino, soprano, reed soprano and overtone saxophone (but also bass saxophone and contrabass clarinet). Tension through strong contrasts is therefore guaranteed right from the start.
Of course there are also the reed duels, such as the title track, in which Gustafsson on the flute has a kind of race with Mockūnas’ high saxophones, or “Cold talk. From the side.” in which the two musicians on the baritone and bass saxophones shout at each other in an almost painful way. The most interesting, however, are “More sad than love. Is life.” and “An urge. Of nothingness.”, because in these two pieces Gustafsson uses live electronics – and in an almost ultra-brutal way. In the first piece it sounds like a stuttering engine at cold start, while Mockūnas still plays around with these sounds hesitantly and carefully. Over time Gustafsson increases the speed of the engine noises, then completely exaggerates them (in a positive sense) and finally reaches a level of brutality that is particularly familiar from Aphex Twin recordings such as “Come to Daddy.” It feels like you’re standing in a tin shack with a hurricane raging around it. Mockūnas is the man who is screaming for help in that shack. In “An urge. Of nothingness.” the live electronics are initially inaudible, lurking in the background and then providing the dark surface for an intense, somber saxophone solo. But as the saxophone then falls silent, the rumbling wall of noise remains and is what we hear at the very end.
Watching a dog. Smiling is a frenzied ride through hell that makes no attempt to hide its darkness. But that is precisely the appeal of the album.
Watching a dog. Smiling is available on vinyl in a limited edition of 300 copies and as a download. You can listen to it here:
The vinyl version is sold out on bandcamp and NoBusiness, but some copies are still available online, for example at Trost Records.
