Zaar
Zaar

THE REVIEW

 

If it even ended after the twenty minutes of “Sëfir” (the first track of the album), the self-titled debut of this French band, recently released by the very active Cuneiform, would deserve to be mentioned.
However, since the show continues for another 34 minutes offering us one of the most interesting, least predictable, and decipherable productions heard recently, the mention is inevitable.
Who should this album be recommended to?
To those who loved the attitude of Henry Cow, Magma, and also certain King Crimson, and who digs into the depths of the '70s in search of less known, more lateral, and hybrid declinations of the so-called "progressive".
To those who follow the evolutions of a research that has absorbed the lessons scattered over time by dozens of "art" or "avant" rock projects, combining them with a creative rigor not far from the recent advances of a certain new jazz.
And to those who, like me, hope sometimes, in an album, to encounter an original sound universe, a perspective, maybe not always immediately assimilable, not always close to their usual listening habits but capable of drawing from different codes and suggestions to express itself in a personal creative context.
To all of them, I believe they won't mind listening to “Zaar”, letting themselves be enchanted by the amount of variations and inventions that run through the two long suites (the initial “Sëfir”, in fact, and “Omk”, in the second part) and the other six tracks (“Scherzaaah” is essentially a very brief introduction to the subsequent “Scherzo #C”) present on the record.
Extremely rich paintings of changing constructions and interlocks, very dynamic, with unexpected openings, accelerations, and pauses, with a deployment of sudden changes of tempos and no heavy redundancy typical of those who set among their objectives the demonstration of technique.

But there is plenty of technique here: I was immediately struck by that of the drummer, Michael Hazera, one of the leaders of the band: sharp, surgical, rapid, restless, efficient. Far from fulfilling exclusive rhythmic support tasks, often the drums become the focal point, the centrifugal force, dispenser of timbres and solo figures that allow a single track to assume, in the span of a few seconds, unforeseen physiognomies.
This occurs more frequently, naturally, in the two long tracks already mentioned.
The first is traversed by a flow that goes from a more evocative aspect, spiced with folk accents, to a central part that opens onto a scenario of extreme rarefaction, from which unfolds a long probe of "space" sound, which then condenses in an almost free finale, before dissolving in the final minutes.
“Omk” is dark, expanded, traversed at the beginning by a low, deep sound over which nervous percussive interventions and fragments of guitar lines intersect: as if waiting, a tension that we feel growing and that erupts before reaching the midpoint of the piece. Layered, dense, it unravels at the heart of the track, releasing again a murky and shadowy material, which will be traversed again by rhythmic and guitaristic furies, as well as almost "medieval" accents. And then apparent calm and new sudden flashes, up to the obsessive advance of the coda, abruptly cut off by a drum beat.

Even in the shorter tracks, even when it is more rarefied and meditative, the atmosphere is always crossed by a line of tension, a palpable, throbbing creative energy.
The guitar offers such a variety of approaches, such a palette of sounds, in the ever functional use of effects and rhythms, to constitute a very pleasant source of surprise.
If in “Sefir” we heard it open the track electrifying, distorted and nervous, to become first evocative, "spatial" and then very fast, affected, weaving solos in the most hectic fragments of the long piece, in the following two minutes of the delightful “Zolg” we find it acoustic, “classical” but unpredictable, dynamic, and lively.
The line-up, in addition to the mentioned Hazera, includes Pairbon (bass and double bass) and Cosia (hurdy-gurdy).
A word must be spent also on the hurdy-gurdy: only on rare occasions does it recall its “folkloric” nature: in this crucible even its typical sounds become something else, marrying the acrobatic soul of the project.
The excellent work of Pairbon is perceptible throughout all the tracks, but his touch on the double bass emerges exquisitely in the rarefied “C'è ne Pas Triste”, which precedes the very dense guitar whirlwind with which the next “Tougoudougoum” opens. Followed, in turn, by another surprising track: unexpectedly built on hinted samba movements, “Discasambo” is oneiric and abstract, played on the bounce of guitar chords and the percussive chiseling of the drums.

A not easy album, but open to an open listening.
And to that very tasty listening: to the point that you will return to the tracks several times, pausing to appreciate the richness of its details, observing more clearly the structure of its pieces, reviewing the forms drawn by the improvisational episodes.
But at first listen, you will let it flow in its flowing, versatile identity.




P.S. The two Hazera come from another group, of which I only know the name, Sotos. A peek at their production, after this listening, I think is worth taking.