Dave Jones – not the Monkee, not the Bowie, but the Caribbean – is a
gearhead’s kind of ambient guitarist. Indeed, there’s no point in discussing
how the music makes you feel when you’re
so clinical in your description. But hey, that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?
Ol’ Dave has been crackin’ that guitar whip for over 25 years (he’s ancient!),
and when you’re no longer lean and hungry, you get to sit back and do whatever
the heck you want, and be content with
it. And what do I know – Dave might just be the slimmest twig on the tree,
still, instead of the enormous fat bastard I’m picturing. (I kid!)
Anyway, an “etude” literally means a “study,” and is intended as a
practice exercise. Rudiments, everyone, rudiments! But instead of working over
a particularly knotty piano passage, like Chopin, Jones is more interested in
discovering the inner workings of his ring modulator and delay pedal, and
brings a flange or two along for the ride. And while I’m not sure I like how he
spits in the eye of the First and Second Laws of Thermodynamics (“I set my
delay to infinite repeat [and almost infinite sustain]” – that’s the sonic
equivalent to a perpetual motion machine, right?), the “40-50 layers” of delay
(created by letting the delay run for “2-3 hours” for a “gauzy” effect) really
allow for an immersive headphone-y experience. “Headphone-y” – see how
technical I can be?
Now, before you get all “When’s he going to tell me how this is, for
goodness’ sake?” on me, I daresay these seven recordings press all the right
buttons. They’re a bit clinical, which is fine if you’re studying them, but you
can also get lost in their prettiness too – Jones certainly doesn’t skimp on
the euphony around here. The pieces sound otherworldly, and you’d often never
guess that a man and a guitar made them. Usually stuff like this reminds me of
outer space, making me close my eyes to watch the planetarium show on the
underside of my eyelids. But Etudes evokes
more the quietness of the upper layers of Earth’s atmosphere, where there’s
still vapor and you can see the true curvature of the planet below, and space
begin to take shape above. That’s a pretty neat trick. I bet Chopin never
inspired anyone to visualize that.
--Ryan Masteller
Posts
