Caspar Brötzmann

MUTE MASSAKER

(Thirsty Ear)

Guitarist Caspar, son of evil saxophone improviser Peter, stays close to the tree. Like his pop, he's got a problem with melody and dares you to make something of it by hurling nasty clouds of blurred, roaring sound at'cha. Here the focus is on tonality. All six of these instrumental trio pieces -- with drummer Robert Dämmig and bassist Ottmar Seum -- plumb a rich-textured low-end spectrum, presumably achieved by rolling the tone knobs back on his guitar and the volume knob up on his amp. Because they tend to lack melodic form, these improvs sound like the kind of noodling Hendrix used to do in concert as segues. Which, at times, is pretty exciting stuff. Especially for listeners with an ear for pure sonics. In particular, "Pearl of Utah" and "Rain" offer tasty celebrations of feedback-drenched sustain's ability to slide through different harmonic overtones. "Woodstock Hymne," which closes the disc, seems like the only composed piece, thanks to Brötzmann's variations on a small handful of melody and Seum's drive. Not for the weak-hearted.

-- Ted Drozdowski