Trestle Records – 18th December 2024
Christopher Nosnibor
Tout isn’t a seedy guy flogging – or trying to buy, at a cut-price – tickets outside a gig, but a band which, on this, their fourth album (bet you never guessed that) brings together aspects of contemporary classical, jazz and ambient, in addition to the ‘folk and new age traditions’ which influence their previous works. It follows and extends the trajectory of their previous albums, sequentially numbered with the exception of their last Live, released in 2017.
It’s certainly a lot to toss in together, and with no fewer than ten musicians contributing to this release, the compositions certainly afford a considerable amount of layering and offer much to process. Even after a few listens, I’m still digesting and on the fence as to whether the combined elements are appealing or not.
Jazz comes in almost infinite flavours, and it’s not the ‘nice’ jazz to which the cliché of the listener sporting a goatee and cardigan applies which is the strain that tantalises my taste buds – but Tout do sit perilously close to this at times. At others… they’re truly sublime.
One of their habits is to title the tracks – instrumental pieces, all – in such a was as read in sequence, they form a poem, although on Fourth, it ends abruptly, despite the full stop making it clear that this is no accidental cliffhanger.
I rob the rich to feed the poor
Which hardly is a sin
A widow ne’er knocked at my door
But what I let her in
So blame me not for what I’ve done
I don’t deserve your curses
And if for any cause I’m hung.
‘I rob the rich to feed the poor’ makes for an expansive, atmospheric start to the album, slow-swelling cymbals and understated percussion hover in the background while delicate sonic waves rise and fall, while smooth saxophone echoes out atop it all, growing increasingly excited toward the climactic finish.
It’s broad-brushed, sweeping synths and soft strings which provide the backdrop to ‘Which hardly is a sin’, where a strolling bass stumbles and stutters from time to time. ‘A widow ne’er knocked at my door’ marks something of a change in tone, with sparse acoustic guitar mournful strings bringing an altogether folkier feel in contrast to the jazz vibes. At the same time, it’s reminiscent of some of the post-rock which was all the rage circa 2005.
‘So blame me not for what I’ve done’ is truly magnificent: a minimal, piano-centred piece, it’s haunting and melancholy and leaves you feeling somewhat hollowed and bereft, and it’s apparent that – to my ears, at least – the less overtly jazz works are the superior ones on the album. Admittedly, that’s a matter of taste, but, objectively, Tout seem at their most inventive and creatively enthused when venturing into these different territories.
The album ends as abruptly as the poem it spins: one moment, ‘And if for any cause I’m hung.’ after a subtle, sedate start, is jazzing along, the bass strolling and ambling – and then suddenly it isn’t, petering out, unresolved. Et c’est tout. It’s well played, both literally and figuratively.
AA
Aural Aggravation 