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The next project of the hyperactive Roy Montgomery is called Dissolve, and it is a title that well associates with the atmospheres of the first album "That That Is... Is (Not)".
Faint echoes of fading chords, minimalist compositions that leisurely snake through the fog, opaque. An album in shades of gray, of great class, resulting from the collaboration with one Chris Heaphy, another guitarist with similar characteristics (down there in New Zealand, everyone knows each other and everyone plays an instrument in some band).
Roy Montgomery is a giant of the nineties and his second-choice Fender-copy purchased on sale at a megastore is the symbol of his work. Meaning, how with humble means it is possible to create the most sublime art, how from a mediocre guitar one can draw a celestial sound, how without technicalities and with the most disarming simplicity one can give rise to music of a transcendent elegance. It is time we realize, this man is the true hero of the global musical underground of at least the last fifteen years, a humble craftsman ascended to the noblest of thrones. The influences are varied: in the vortex of his sonic universe, there are even traces of Sonic Youth and some suspicion of post-punk dissonances in the style of Pere Ubu.
"That That Is... Is (Not)" is an open-eyed dream, a journey imbued with melancholy. Dadamah are indeed felt in this work, but the sound is more rarefied and at the same time more substantial. It is a haze that creeps into your room, a dense fog, the kind you can cut with a knife. A calm ecstasy to savor on a rainy afternoon, eyes closed. The notes drip at regular intervals, like from a faucet poorly closed, emotions fly softly mid-air. The vibrations gently brush your skin with steady consistency, the clouds of chords dissolving one after the other massage your temples.
This is rejuvenating music.
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