According to Google translate (and with humble apologies to Norwegian readers), this mouthful of an album title means something like "Regarding circumstances that cannot be recorded". Suffice to say, knowing this leaves you are none to wiser as to the band's objectives.
Maybe they didn't really have any, other than to sit down and play together and see what transpired. And why not? This seems as good a way to make an album as any and preferable to lumping things together under some contrived, lame-ass concept.
The members of the acoustic trio Monkey Plot have been playing together for five years so they should know their strengths and weaknesses by now.
On acoustic guitar we have Christian Winther, Magnus Nergaard plucks away on double bass and Jan Martin Gismervik is the drummer.
This is their second album; their debut, Løøv og lette vimpler ('Leaves and Light Streamers' since you ask), was released in 2014. This was recorded in the living room of free jazz saxophonist, Frode Gjerstad and won them the title as “Young Norwegian Jazz Musicians of the Year”
Apparently the experimentally inclined threesome actually started out with the idea of emulating The Jimi Hendrix Experience and for reasons best known to themselves had a stage gimmick of throwing bananas at their audiences.
|
Somewhere along the line, these ambitions (and presumably the banana tossing) were shelved and their sound has evolved into the dozen curiously formless but surprisingly alluring tracks we hear on this album.
Nothing can be described as dramatic and it is not particularly melodic either but it holds the attention just the same.
Only three songs run for more than four minutes and since all have titles in Norwegian I won't trouble to list them.
The record label describe Monkey Plot’s style as "intimate and often unpretentious"( I just love that 'often'!)
To me, they sound like a group of punk rockers playing jazz and not wanting to disturb the neighbours.
|
