Graveyards - Esprit de Corpse |Editions Brokenresearch|

I dig the Editions Brokenresearch packaging a lot, plain, white and simple. The cd goes nicely in a centred patch, fitting xeroxed image on the outside. It doesn't need to be more exuberant than this, although I'd like a nice collection of EBR vinyl ooh god yes. Sorry.
Esprit de Corpse is the umpteenth Graveyards release this year and I really wanted this to be their penultimate release, I'm so impatient I know, but it isn't. This can be frustrating, especially when you're, like me, flooded by underground noise making and only 95% makes it to the highest ranks of admiration. With Graveyards releases it's useless to go by firsthand conclusions anyway. This is music for the long term, a muddy swamp full with miniscule treasures. Keep digging and you'll find them.

Esprit de Corpse gets off on the minimalistic approach we've come to expect with the Graveyards trio. Buetow makes the boldest moves on it's first track, rubbing his cello's snares with slow and deep gestures while Olson instills some creepy electronics with a minimalist mindset reminiscent of the sensual but moody Kaffe Matthews sinewaves. As time progresses the atmosphere starts to get darker and, maybe by accident, or prejudice on my part, moving into abstract Wolf Eyes territory. The horror flick scenario's start popping up without much effort around 4:20", by all means do report back if you've checked. Of course, this doesn't last for long and when you think they're gonna go all postrock on your ass, you're terribly wrong. Instead the threesome retreats in relative silence, surfacing again with the deep, craving sound of a clarinet and Hall's rumbling-in-slowmotion percussive style. Olson's bizarre electro-torture keeps injecting a dose of sinister like he's been doing with his Spykes project and while the other two go all in once more he seduces his bastard sinewaves to strangle eachother. With succes.

Olson's sax first makes it's presence during the second track, with usual hesitation. The restraint that goes into his playing is remarkable for a dude known as the Wolf Eyes Fistpump Kickstarter. As for Buetow, the sounds he makes with a cello are seemingly without limitation. He makes his instrument yearn, charm, seduce, vomit, bark and screech, often during the same track. With this track being over the 27-minute mark, you get a lot of frustrating space, too little release and a lot of seemingly desultory structure. The album's most satisfying release comes during it's final, fourth track. Commencing with an impressive duel between roaring percussion, some electronics, Buetow's scratch 'n screeching cello sounds and Olson who slowly moves in with persuasive saxophone gestures. It entices, it lures you in even further than you're expecting when listening to Graveyards. Not that it drags you in and runs you over like a monster truck with a flat tire, bouncing it's steel rim on your forehead. No, it's seducing in a morbid way. After a long and grueling silence halfway during the track, Buetow's cello rises like a phoenix from the etcetera and Hall pounds his toms like he's practicing for some noisenik death march ritual. Meanwhile, Olson pushes his sax to his mouth one final time to release some of the most epic sounds I've ever heard him play with Graveyards. At last! My brain's most impatient cells scream, at long last.

Satisfying end to a mixed bag of avant-improv minimalistic jazz, maybe not as satisfying as I hoped for but far from a dissapointment. This is Graveyards' most romantic offer so far, and that's no far fetched compliment either.