Acoustics
There are points in time in which a writer simply becomes exhausted from the perpetual effort for finding the accurate collocation – or, even worse, a sticker – for something that causes a type of unadulterated gratification which needs no words or definitions to be savoured at any time. When those moments come, just let the music do the healing and everything’s going to be alright, as a little dreadlocked man used to remind.
As soon as one spins Only Moment - the latest offering from Rozanne Levine’s Chakra Tuning - the room is pervaded by presences resembling spirits of well-being. Right away, the clarity of every note played, the consistency of the amalgamation among the musicians and a sense of shared endeavour for the abolishment of narrow-mindedness contribute to a private feeling of enjoyment which is absolutely not based on something “easing the nerves”, or plain silly. With each listen we find ourselves perseveringly intent in attempting a veritable penetration of every sound, like if the completion of the experience depended on a full understanding of any single acoustic event. The music comes out smoothly and extremely physically at once, influenced by so many things – natural occurrences, bird talking, native Indian chants, theatre – that the tracks might represent different segments of a being’s life cycle, and I’m writing this without the fear of sounding nonsensically hippy or esoterically lost in nowhereland, my skill in distinguishing between counterfeit illuminations and sober practices of inside connectivity rigorously trained as ever.
Levine is flanked by Perry Robinson, Mark Whitecage and Rosi Hertlein. Listening to these artists reveal their fundamental nature through the full command of the instruments is just amazing. All kinds of clarinet, saxophones, ocarinas, bird whistles and percussion are utilized by the nominal leader and her long-time male companions, while Hertlein - a mean violinist – also sings and handles additional percussive chores with the same nimbleness. The artists’ technique might be admirable, and indeed it is. But what really wins for me is the sort of opposition to hopelessness that this gorgeous recording generates as early as the circulation of the first notes in the air. Coming from a hard-boiled mankind-disparager like yours truly, this should give you something to chew over.
