Klang – 15th December 2023
Christopher Nosnibor
Gordon H. Whitlow has been involved in a number of group projects, perhaps most notably as a member of US avantgarde collective Biota. His first release under the Sorry for Laughing moniker was a solo cassette release back in 1986.
There have been a number of releases since then, and as we learn from the press release, recently, following a pause of some three decades, ‘Gordon reactivated the project and changed it from a solo effort into a new supergroup: it now consist of himself, Edward Ka-Spel of Legendary Pink Dots fame, and Martyn Bates of Eyeless In Gaza. Also contributing is Denver guitarist Janet Feder and the Dots’ Patrick Q-Wright.’
Sun Comes is one of those avant-garde collaborations which is certainly worthy of its contributors. Being an avant-garde collaboration, it exists beyond the realm of Spotify wrap stats, radio playlists and anything remotely ‘industry’ or otherwise concerned with commercialism or even audience. Listening to the first of the album’s four pieces, the thirty-one-minute ‘Sun Comes Suite’ is an uplifting experience, because not only is it a work that’s – in the main – melodic, musical, mellow, and soothing, as strings and electronics combine in harmonious balance, but every bar seeps a sense of pleasure from the enjoyment of simply creating. Whitlow’s vocals are understated, with what one might describe as a folksy lilt. Bold string strikes contrast with quavering mid-range drones which hover and hang. In places, otherworldly voices rise wordlessly, with ghostly moans and cries blending with ascending drama, and the sheer scale of the piece and the way it transition from one place to another is remarkable, moving from classical to shanty to film score and beyond. The transitions are often unexpected, but always seamless. This first piece feels like an album in its own right, and with so many segued segments, the listening experience is a journey which takes substantial mental energy.
‘Heart of the Matter – The Three Roses’ and ‘Adam Lay Ybounden’ are but brief interludes by comparison, running to around ten and seven minutes in duration respectively. The former marks quite a change in tone, with a cinematic string section providing a subtly dramatic backdrop to a spoken word narrative. The score veers between elevating and ominous, and it’s fitting as the accompaniment to a story that has the tone of a children’s tale but the darkness of an altogether more adult allegory, with some disturbing imagery, and the meaning of which remains somewhat obscure. The latter is folky but experimental, which makes for a rather alien experience. How does one process and compartmentalise this? We struggle with the unfamiliar, and Sun Comes is difficult because it uses many familiar elements in an unfamiliar way, often juxtaposed in a way which jars and has no immediate or obvious musical precedent.
The twelve-minute closer, ‘So, You Rest Easy’ begins ostensibly as a minimalist folk song with an almost acapella vocal, with some mangling noise twisting darkly in the background. The contrast between the warm, tuneful voice and the stark, minimal electronics are something for debate. It feels tranquil, sparse, and yet I’m left feeling uncomfortable.
There’s not much to laugh at here, but there is much to explore.
AA
Aural Aggravation 