Tuatara
Breaking The Ethers

The idea of a supergroup can sometimes evoke not so positive thoughts. The union of so many different talents can result in poor, approximate products. And, as usual, there is always an exception to the rule. One of the possible exceptions is named Tuatara (after a New Zealand reptile). Born as a spontaneous project aimed at creating soundtracks, the group, composed of Justin Harwood (Luna, bass) Peter Buck (REM, guitar) Barrett Martin (Screaming Trees, drums and percussion) and Skerik from Critters Buggin (saxophones) began to appear live occasionally and started to give concrete form to a real album: namely, the present "Breaking The Ethers."

Mixing elements from different origins such as jazz, soul, and funk particles with those belonging to the most classic American folk, psychedelia, and Asian, Middle Eastern, and African influences (along with some minimalist accents à la Penguin Café Orchestra), Tuatara demonstrates a crazy and colorful tendency not to repeat themselves: the dances open with "Breaking The Ethers - Serengeti," which, after a minute of gloomy and martial percussion and wind instruments, launches into an energetic funk underscored by joyful congas and vibraphones while the saxophones have a chance to stand out. "Dark State Of Mind" enforces a radical transformation to the sound proposed so far: it is a melancholy and depressed swing, with prominently dilated and "noir" wind instruments and mysterious and impalpable vibraphones. "Land Of Apples" and "Goodnight La Habana" represent the most percussive side of the band: while the former is urged by the relentless rhythm of percussion, minimal and hypnotic acoustic guitars, dreamy vibraphones, and violins and wind instruments that stretch into long bands of dense and surreal sound, the latter is more relaxed and (indeed) nocturnal, interspersed with a vigorous percussive solo on timbales and an equally festive and free sax solo. The song fades in a mysterious climate created by the percussion and the threatening rise of the bass. "Smoke Rings" is probably the most relaxed of the lot: blocks of wood and languid, sleepy acoustic guitars form the fragile base on which wind instruments and vibraphones lay their lazy and melancholy solos, in an atmosphere halfway between relaxation and a subtle sadness. The perfect soulmate of this track is "Eastern Star," mystical and surreal, hypnotically minimalist, set in an atmosphere based on incense and soft lights. But the soul of "Serengeti" lives on in two tracks animated by the same spirit but different in tone and arrangements: "The Getaway" (with guest Mike McCready on guitar) is funky and arrogant, perfect for an action soundtrack, the winds give way to crazy and strident sound frenzies, the bass and drums are powerful and mysterious, and the guitar, somewhat in the background, still makes its mark with wah-wah-soaked riffs, while the second is "Saturday Night Church," darker and decidedly less boisterous, with some daring flute solos courtesy of guest Steve Berlin, while piano, guitar, and vibraphones repeat the depressed and twilight melody that recurs multiple times in the song. The finale is dense and spectacular, with flute, saxophone, and drums competing to raise their voice until the last echoes of the vibraphone. The conclusion of this crazy run through genres is the reprise of the initial "Breaking The Ethers": a minute and a half of percussion and wind instruments in an atmosphere of mystery and tension, somewhat akin to the darker and more hallucinatory creations of Jon Hassell.

In short, a decidedly successful album. It never tires, it is varied and colorful, performed and produced by musicians who know what they're doing and clearly are having a blast. Some may consider it just cocktail music: even if that were the case, it would be an album not to forget. The following album, "Trading With The Enemy," slightly reduces the cornucopia of genres and quotes, relying on a more vigorous and energetic impact, and is slightly less successful than this 1997 album. Try it first, that's my advice. And light up a cigarette, it's the music that asks for it.