New Yorker Dan Peck continues to amaze and delight. Latest missive from the trio The Gate is called simply Scum (TUBAPEDE RECORDS #15) and shows this lower-register acoustic power trio changing their approach somewhat by tackling shorter, more thought-through tracks compared to their usual “open sprawl” – the term they use to describe their previous exploits.
Certainly enjoying the brevity of some of these two-minute marvels – certain colleagues I know are still trying to come to terms with Napalm Death, which makes me long to give them a blast or five from this cassette – but also loving the way that very precise tunes and compositions are emerging from what most infidels and acolytes might mistakenly see as little more than a churning lump of very deep bass notes. Yep, very low frequencies are still the order of the day. For those who joined the party late, Dan Peck blows the tuba and Tom Blancarte operates the double bass, and with drummer Brian Osborne they serve up music which combines energetic free improvisation with as much doom metal as they have an appetite to swallow, simply doing it for the love of playing. With extra side detours into gothic sinister chamber music and spooked organ on ‘Xenobites’, and a sampled scream from a horror movie on ‘Meat Baby’, the listener is guaranteed a supernatural gore-fest aptly aligned with the stark and potent imagery of the great Matt Minter on the cover artworks.
The Gate aim to bring us “more introspective and heavier” experiences on the B side, in the form of such desolate gems as ‘Inside Poems’ – more samples here, this time probably lifted from a sci-fi end-of-the-world flick, used as a prelude to a stern and unforgiving doom-march hymn that’s as sober as a Puritan sermon (wouldn’t it be great to see the trio wearing pilgrim hats on stage?) – and of course ‘Stump Dweller’, emerging as a fan fave from the few listeners enlightened enough to hear this tape. This stubby gnome of a piece, a true brute among brutes, lurches confidently from its forest lair ten times as large and capable as any black bear, notwithstanding its grotesque and ugly visage. And while the closing piece ‘Troll Junkies’ might lead the unsuspecting listener to expect a root of bitterness torn from the minds of Nick Cave and Lou Reed in a bad mood, in fact it’s a beautiful dark hymn, melodic intervals played on the organ to confound Satan, and subtle shifting time-signatures to wrong-foot the horned one as he leads us sinners up the garden path.
The cumulative effect of this tape is remarkable, instilling doubts and profound gloom among the enemy as surely as it rouses the martial spirit of true believers. The achievement of Peck and his compadres, transmuting their musical skills and passions into palpable manifestations as real as any Frankenstein monster loosed from a laboratory, is considerable enough, but amazingly – on the strength of this bone-cruncher – they keep finding ways to do it better. Essential! (22/12/2023)