Chattanooga Pulse

Mission of Burma
The Sound the Speed the Light
(Matador)

After the Boston band Mission of Burma reunited following a nearly 20-year hiatus, there was a collective sigh of relief from fans because the first post-break offering, ONoffON, not only didn’t suck but was also pretty good and true to the band’s form.  Next, there was a gasp from fans—the 2006 album The Obliterati was a roaring, tremendous album, revealing the group at the top of its game.  Now, the reaction to Mission of Burma’s new fourth (proper) studio album, The Sound the Speed the Light, is likely to be a firm, satisfied nod.

The trademark elements of a Mission of Burma release are all in full force on The Sound the Speed the Light, with a delivery that’s more about potency and momentum than about being heavy.  There’s a post-punk attack with Roger Miller’s non-obvious, new-rule power chords and non-metronomic, pounding, often unrestrained drumming from Peter Prescott.  Clint Conley completes the power trio with his distinctive, balanced bass guitar tone and tight playing, and all three sing, sometimes simultaneously, with a sustained ardent vigor.  The fourth member, Bob Weston, who has replaced original member Martin Swope, mainly stays out of the spotlight, but at choice moments, he uses loops to throw a bit of disorder into the proceedings, like the shrieks on “So F*** It” or the queasy tape wobbles on “Possession.”

The album is a bit like a companion piece to The Obliterati, with occasional cheeky moments—for example, the charged opener is titled “1, 2, 3, Partyy!” (sic)—and a few slowly burning tracks, like “Forget Yourself” and “Feed,” that are a change from the more immediately pummeling ones.  An uncredited keyboard part emerges on “SSL 83,” but otherwise, the sound of the album is classic Mission of Burma—stirring and ferocious, with a fully formed sonic identity.

David Sait with Glen Hall, Gino Robair, and LaDonna Smith
Postage Paid Duets – Vol. 2
(aPPRISe)

Comedy improv acting is often based on the “Yes, and…” technique, where one acknowledges an element introduced by another (the “yes” part) and then takes the premise further by adding to it (the “and…” part).  Old-school musical improv is similar to this, but new-school improv is a different game, where the performers can completely ignore each other if so desired.  With David Sait’s “Postage Paid Duets,” there isn’t a two-way exchange of information between partners; each part is recorded separately, in a completely different location.  Therefore, only one musician is allowed to react, and in some cases, a third party is called upon to mix and edit the tracks, leaving both performers without a hand in the final synthesis.

For Sait’s second volume of “time-delayed free improvisations,” he enlists three unique musicians, with entirely different instrumentation.  The stringed instrument of choice for Sait is the guzheng, which is a plucked Chinese zither, but Sait avoids traditional scales for the instrument and even strives to use a different tuning for every performance.  The disc opens with his duet with LaDonna Smith, the iconoclastic viola and violin player from Birmingham, Alabama; Smith feverishly runs through a number of her techniques, bouncing between elegant trills and wild glissandos rapidly and playing freely in a colorful, almost defiant manner.

Gino Robair uses a variety of percussion instruments (plus, apparently, a bike horn, motors, and a dolphin call) to lay down a bed of restless clattering, while Sait first lets his notes ring clearly before becoming more chaotic with his playing, bending and attacking his notes.  Soprano saxophonist and bass flutist Glen Hall provides a sense of space, even dissolving into breathy wisps to call for attention.  It’s a fascinating album that’s in a way like a puzzle; knowing how it was recorded, the listener may constantly try to draw connections, either intentional or unintentional.