ghostcar, me-thinks

speaking of dark improv mystery 'n' majesty, ghostcar, those masters of same, be's back in action, with upcoming shows at the cavern in dallas (june 16th) and denton field day (july 1st). caught 'em last night at the black dog after witnessing a me-thinks performance at the wreck room that was at once chaotic and epic. a last-minute addition to the previously booked three-band bill caused haltom city's finest to have to tear down the backline they'd planned to share with the riverside ramblers, after which ray liberio's amps didn't seem to wanna act right; funny how equipment never malfunctions in the 'shed, only on the gig. they managed to overcome, tho, interpolating the loco gringos' "nurture my pig" in the middle of my fave toon from their soon-come double e.p., "burnout timeline." but i digress.

ghostcar's a larger band than they usedta be. wayfaring trumpeter karl poetschke's returned from his latest series of outta town adventures, bringing his echoplex with him, and it's good to see drummer clay stinnett back on the evening stage in the 817 after a lengthy exile in, um, denton. chris perdue's still on hand to lay down his ever-solid foundation of shifting ostinatos, while tony chapman, who usedta do a two-bass thang with perdue, is playing a stratocaster these days, providing a more linear counterpoint to daniel huffman's swirling palette of colors and textures. most striking change to the lineup is the addition of vibist / keyb man / percussionist dana sudborough, who brings yet another element to the evolving sound sculpture that these guys craft on the fly, in the moment.

so just like you'd expect, ghostcar's new cd, too strong / the art of transition, is quite a different beast than its predecessor, the easter sunday e.p. (which had a pastoral, in a silent way-via-ecm label vibe that weren't quite representative of most of the band's live performances i've witnessed). the first hint comes in the chris perdue photo collage on the new disc's cover: there's _gtrs_ in them thar hills. the opening track, "too strong," crackles with live energy, feedback, and a groove that harks back to the rockier moments of miles' a tribute to jack johnson alb (for those of you who just joined us, that's the prizefighter immortalized in the play "the great white hope," not the millennial collegiate rocker). elsewhere, proximate models include the more "out" parts of electric ladyland, mid-period soft machine, banyan, and native american music (dig poetschke's organic lyricism on wooden flute). nobody in the metromess works without a net like this dirty half dozen, and their new cd is a worthy testament to that fact. so there.