“Presence and absence, softness and intensity, expansion and return.“
In times gone by, a soloist would win acclaim by dazzling their audience with flawless musicianship. I’m thinking of the likes of Joe Satriani, Keith Emerson, or any number of jazz musicians. But there seems to be a slowly growing genre of “soloist + effects”, in which a gifted soloist bends space and time with the help of an array of effects pedals. This is music that impresses not by playing you a thousand notes a minute, but by weaving aural tapestries that sound almost impossible. There are many guitarists who have released “soloist + effects” work, perhaps most famously Robert Fripp, Fennesz or countless musicians from the ambient-drone scene. But every so often a non-guitarist will join their ranks. Colin Stetson, Bendik Giske, Hauschka and Kelly Moran are some of the soloists who use effects pedals, electronics or other hi-jinks to push their instruments to new sonic realms. (And let’s not forget the time Nils Frahm played his piano with toilet brushes.)
And it’s in this realm that we find cellist Jo Quail. Quail has been making a name for herself by touring with the likes of Wardruna, Amenra and Emma Ruth Rundle and with guest spots on albums by Saor, My Dying Bride, God is an Astronaut, and Myrkur (among others). This is on top of her many albums and commissioned compositions as a solo artist. Quail’s is an impressive CV, both in terms of pedigree and the unusually diverse cast of characters.
Jo Quail’s solo albums are involved, atmospheric affairs. Her early works are quieter, more ambient affairs, but her more recent efforts have grown darker and bolder. Notan, Quail’s seventh album, builds on these foundations and includes many of the staples from her live shows. Cello parts are layered and sustained to create the kind of ambience you might expect from Godspeed You! Black Emperor. The inventive clicking and clunking of percussive effects brings to mind the works of Ben Frost or Colin Stetson. The distorted, delayed cello solos tower over the sonic landscape like A-Sun Amissa. In short, if your happy place is at the intersection of post-rock, ambient-drone and post-industrial music, Notan really hits the spot.
“Butterfly Dance” is an attention-grabbing opener, building from deep rumbles and tense percussion into a punchy, distorted cello solo. It is followed by “Rex” and “A Leaf, And Then A Key”, two tracks that start with gentle, mysterious solos that bring to mind the eeriness of Deaf Center. While “A Leaf, And Then A Key” achieves its goals with a paucity of effects, “Rex” gradually develops into something very special: the percussion and deep stabs of cello swing in when you least expect it. These arrangements show Quail at her strongest and most distinctive: the effect is commanding, uplifting and triumphant. Stirring stuff.
These tracks set the scene for “Embrace”, the eight-minute centrepiece and absolute highlight of Notan. This piece starts with a distant howling which is anchored by a hypnotic cello rhythm. Piece by piece, other cello lines are added, with little off-beat percussive squeaks and distant wails adding to the atmosphere. Just as things start to get comfortable, some deep distorted cello stabs (as seen on “Rex”) appear from nowhere to raise the proceedings to the next level. “Embrace” perfectly encapsulates the album’s theme of polarity and is as powerful as Godspeed You! Black Emperor at their finest. It’s tremendously moving and worth the price of entry by itself.
“Embrace” is followed by “First Rain”, a gentle, melancholic piano composition that captures a similar mood to much of Tim Hecker and William Basinski’s work (especially Basinski’s Cascade). It makes perfect sense in the running order of the album, but would struggle to stand on its own two feet. Notan is then rounded off by “KingFisher”, which redeploys many of the tricks we have seen before to create the closest thing this album has to an upbeat track.
On a purely technical level, Notan is an extraordinary achievement. Compositionally, Quail has succeeded in crafting an album that is conceptually and creatively inventive while building a strong emotional connection with the listener. That’s quite something. And yet, for all the innovation on show, this album feels strangely familiar. Is the simple-yet-complex nature of these looped pieces tapping into something primeval? Or is it that Ben Frost, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Tim Hecker and the like have already explored very similar territory? Perhaps both. Either way, I found myself having to set aside these niggles to fully enjoy the splendour of this album – and it is nothing if not splendorous.
Make no mistake: Notan is a mighty achievement. It is an adventurous, rousing piece of work that will appeal to fans of ambient, post-rock and chamber music. Highly recommended.
8/10
Notan releases on the 12th September and can be pre-ordered here.