This column was referred to as Inbox Jukebox till the pandemic disrupted, effectively, all the pieces. When the column resumed, it assumed a distinct, wordier identify, as a consequence of a former editor’s desire. Now, Inbox Jukebox is again, by fashionable (?) demand. Every single day, I sift by the tons of of tracks that bombard my inbox. Right here and each two weeks, I’ll talk about two artists whose music most impressed me. This time it is adventurous LA-via-Australia jazz bassist Anna Butterss and Seattle organic-techno phenom tondiue, whose new releases advantage deep listening.
Anna Butterss, “Dance Steve” (Worldwide Anthem)
LA-based multi-instrumentalist Anna Butterss has emerged as a key determine within the West Coast experimental jazz renaissance—whereas additionally doing classes with mainstream artists corresponding to Phoebe Bridgers and Jason Isbell. Finest often known as a bassist who additionally performs with the good SML collective, Tortoise guitarist Jeff Parker, and Makaya McCraven, the Australia-born Butterss additionally sings, applications drums, performs guitar, flute, drums, synths, and piano.
Butterss’s sturdy solo debut album, 2022’s Actions, reveals their deft compositional expertise inside a minimalist framework, as uncommon, transferring melodies waft over intricate rhythm matrices. The LP’s hottest monitor, “Doo Wop” weaves an evocative “ooh wah ooh wah ooh” reprise by a spectral, dubby post-rock trawl; the outcomes are directly unconventional and catchy as hell.
Butterss’s fingerprints are additionally throughout SML’s cerebral and full-bodied Small Medium Massive (2024), an revolutionary melding of Jon Hassell’s Fourth World music, chamber jazz, and experimental digital music. Now with their sophomore album, Mighty Vertebrate, Butterss additional burnishes their rep as an necessary boundary-pusher. Eventful intricacies fill each second of it.
The album will get off to a improbable begin with “Bishop,” whose faint afrobeat rhythmic undertow locks in with Far East Asian percussive timbres, Ben Lumsdaine’s strong drumming, and Butterss’s vibrantly effervescent bass line. “Shorn”—which can be titled in honor of Butterss’ close-cropped haircut—locations their inspirational flute solo and Josh Johnson’s mellifluous alto sax over a captivating rhythmic procession. The monitor’s attractive, unique, and alluringly unclassifiable.
Whereas “Ella” proves that Butterss can write a simple, tender ballad and “Counterpoint” reveals their facility for morose, ECM-ish meditativeness, they’re at their finest when fusing unlikely components. For instance, “Pokemans” exists at that odd nexus the place post-rock aggression and ambient-jazz serenity meet, and the placid “Lubbock” pits Gregory Uhlmann’s Tortoise-like round, spaghetti-Western guitar riff towards Johnson’s languid sax lament. On “Breadrich,” large, funky beats and a lascivious bass line energy a music that is the closest Butterss involves pop—though its chord progressions and timbres are too bizarre for the charts. Nonetheless, it builds to a maximal celebratory anthem.
Mighty Vertebrate attains a peak with “Dance Steve,” on which Parker will get off a pointillistic guitar solo that is as cool as a Wes Montgomery/Pat Martino jam session. The monitor appears directly non-Western and rooted within the fusionoid funk of ’70s Climate Report, with Lumsdaine’s drums smacking with a satisfying rotundity. “Dance Steve”‘s unusual mixture of components coheres right into a extremely distinctive sound. Here is hoping a Butterss—and/or SML—tour is on the horizon.
tondiue, “Thoughts” “Dubman Dub It” (Kelp Roots)
A part of the multifaceted Seattle report label/occasion organizers Apt E with Max Washburn, tondiue (aka Cameron Kelley) strikes me as probably the most proficient producers within the area’s underground-club sphere. This was obvious from tondiue’s first launch, 2021’s Painted Creature. An inherent ability for creating distinctive, psychedelic techno and ambient music that radiate an unclichéd spirituality shines onerous all through the tondiue catalog. Kelley has described their inventive impulse as deriving from “exploring the sacred roots of afrofuturistic sound design.”
These attributes construct to a peak with the brand new album, Phrase to the Centipede. Opening monitor “Thoughts” (not a Speaking Heads cowl) begins with an intriguing, resonant drone earlier than staccato beats and wonky bass strain enter the body. A hazy, humid synth upends your equilibrium whereas digital lizard-tongue snip-snips and enigmatic chicken and animal utterances crowd the midrange… and we’re off on a weird techno safari. I’ve heard a whole lot of digital music over the past 5 a long time, and “Thoughts” ranks extremely within the pantheon of consciousness-altering specimens.
Elsewhere, “Chickadee”‘s dank, deep dub-centric dance music lunges at skewed angles, resulting in contorted, spasmodic actions. Kelley wreathes the unwell bass jabs and renegade snares with hyperreal jungle vibes—the ecosphere, not the style. On “Glyph,” tondiue forges funky, chunky, and distinctive dub techno that beats the Orb at their very own recreation, without having for goofy vocal samples. This music is earthy but something however earthbound. The query is, does Seattle have an viewers adventurous and limber sufficient to bounce to music this sick?
Should you like your techno euphoric and unusual in an understated means, you may dig “Dubman Dub It.” Listening to this monitor appears like having MDMA injected into your fundamental vein and striding weightlessly. The almost 13-minute “Chocolate” is odd, natural acid-techno that feels refreshingly free from the grid’s strictures. Right here as elsewhere on Phrase to the Centipede, Kelley liberates techno from rote mechanics and imbues it with a wholesome biome of psychedelic tones and results. It behooves you to comply with tondiue’s subsequent strikes intently.
tondiue performs at Groundhum Periods 3 with Huggy Pillow and IVVY that includes THC.XLR at Fremont Abbey on October 17, 7:30 pm, $20 adv/$25 DOS, $15 college students, all ages.
