WARNING: Dangerously introspective midweek reverie - an invitation to a DWAM indeed.
One of life’s famously annoying tropes, when someone you don’t know starts to relay the details of their dreams to you, but what we will disclose is that despite having a typically over ambitious to-do list and a hungry, yelping cat sat in front of us, we’ve been doing nowt but staring into a half drunk cuppa for the whole of side one on this focus-flopping disc. The mind gallivants whilst the body stays rooted, caught in a deep stare-out with a tepid Yorkshire brew, the click of the closing locked groove the only thing to lift the spell cast by the newly minted avengers ensemble (PRETTY sure last time I saw McPhee play he was wearing an Iron Man t-shirt?). Phew, BACK IN THE ROOM.
Yup, tis gorgeous. The tension and timbre of Alcorn’s pedal steel guitar occasionally providing a percussive skeleton for the phantom brass that moves free and gracefully in and out of focus, deploying a slow, subtle sensory overload and inducing an unbreakable, spacious enchantment upon all who dare enter. MYSTIC. Essential scoop for anyone who went berserk for that John Tchicai LP.