Picture the countertop in Knight Hawks and see the lines of steam rising from a freshly brewed cup of the blackest coffee. Picture the old Pepsi-Cola clock on the wall that reads four in the morning. Picture the quintessential hard-boiled detective of the old film noirs, the sharp hat, the taut suspenders, and the never-ending cigarette. Picture the mystery of David Lynch and the confusion of Williams Burroughs. The secrets kept in “Twin Peaks” and the chemically induced paranoia in “Naked Lunch.” These are some images and feelings conjured by Nels Cline’s newest release, Consentrik Quartet.
Cline has been on the scene for almost half a century. During that time, he has managed to collaborate with some of the brightest minds on the alternative side of music, playing alongside names like Thurston Moore (of Sonic Youth fame) and bands like WILCO. All this time spent on auditory architecture has led to Cline being a master of mood and tone.
As said above, Consentrik Quartet evokes many feelings in its audience. It is a transformative work, allowing one to close their eyes and dream with the music. Whether the dream rolls over into horror is entirely dependent upon the subject. In this sense, no other album this year has had the same level of intrigue and effect as Consentrik Quartet. It lives in a fully realized world of illusion and enigma.
From the first track, “The Returning Angel,” one gets a good sense of what they are in for. The dissonant guitar is the first thing heard, and in the right circumstances, it will leave the hair on the neck standing like soldiers at attention. When the drums gently sweep in, it is as if the listener has just woken up in a strange city on an alien planet, which, while looking like Earth, is something entirely different and possibly sinister. The saxophone can now be heard, acting like an umbrella shielding the rest from the pitter-patter of cymbals.
Dynamics play a large part in the effectiveness of mood setting in Consentrik Quartet. Specifically, in the fourth track, “Slipping Into Something,” dynamics give the listener a false sense of calm. Holding off on this lull until fifteen minutes into the album only adds to its intoxication. Guaranteeing that the audience has sunk deep enough to be toyed with. The first two minutes of the track are the musical equivalent of a nightcap, sounding like one last ounce of scotch being knocked back before sleep. At this moment, Cline allows the drums to come crashing through the door, with the bass not far behind, ready to interrogate. This surge of energy is not only welcomed but also a precise narrative that the listener can cling to and begin to unpack.
Consentrik Quartet is not only the best experimental album of the year so far, but it is also some of the finest jazz to be produced in the 21st century. Its effects are almost psychoactive and cannot be understated. The world-building is equally sincere and captivating. It is the soundtrack to an epic story still yet to be revealed.
