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Perhapsody: Live 10.12.06
PopMatters
Oct 12, 2007
Now I Understand! Perhapsody was what I had hoped for from Now I Understand, understand? Perhaps not, so let me clarify: Perhapsody is a live recording of the record release party for Now I Understand, an underwhelming album by the trance-dance-jazz troupe Club d'Elf that, after six double-disc live releases (!!) over nine years, was their first studio product. One listen to both Perhapsody and Now I Understand and you, too, will understand that Club d'Elf is much more comfortable in live settings, stretching out and inviting other musicians to join in on the fun.
The press sheet labels Perhapsody with the genre tag avante groove—it may sound neo-hippy silly, but it fits this well-executed album. Guest John Medeski's keys pummel the opening one-two punch of "Sin Gas" and "Perhapsody" as the band creates a sonic template that is worthy of both dancing and chin-stroking. The lanky, funky "Cave Man", contributed by Sex Mob's Steven Bernstein, shimmers and builds over ten soulful minutes. Club d'Elf's lead man Mike Rivard brings a love of Moroccan music—including one of its conduits, a three-stringed bass lute called a sintir—to the complicated stretchouts of "Sand" and "Jar of Hair". It doesn't matter that Perhapsody only explores two of Now I Understand's basic tracks: this evening of recorded music offers a welcome mix of dissonance and harmony, abstract subtraction, and wonderfully skilled improvisation.
- Mark W. Adams
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Jambase 8/13/07
Review of Perhapsody by Josh Potter
It's generally accepted that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but when a CD comes wrapped in smokable cellophane, the cover might be a good place to start. Inside, the Boston-based collective's seventh release, Perhapsody Live 10.12.06, captures the live energy that they've brought to the stage of the Lizard Lounge almost every other week since their inception in '98. The blend of jazz, prog-rock, drum 'n' bass and Moroccan folk makes one wish that catchall labels like "acid-jazz" hadn't been extinguished decades ago. In this particular instance, the packaging might just be a proper indication of what's to come.
Over two discs worth of aqueous, inspired grooves, the latest Club d'Elf lineup finds keyboardist John Medeski (MMW), guitarists Dave Tronzo (Sex Mob) and Duke Levine (Shawn Colvin), turntablist Mister Rourke and horn players Tom Hall and Tom Halter (Either/Orchestra) wound around the core rhythm section of drummer Erik Kerr and bassist- sintir player Mike Rivard. Despite its collaborative scaffolding, Club d'Elf orbits this rhythmic nucleus like a seasoned, monogamous outfit. Exceedingly bass-centric, it is Rivard who anchors the proceedings and directs each permutation.
The result is deep, organic electronica, more primal-trance than '90s rave with a trip-hop beat stemming from sax and turntables that can skip at a moment's notice into eerie gamelan meditations before crescendoing into a drum 'n' bass blow-out, complete with 8-bit bleeps and hovering Wurlitzer. Tracks like "Life of the Mind" utilize complex rhythmic figures as platforms for ecstatic improvisation, especially from Medeski, whose one-two punch of obtuse atmospherics and angular melodic lines are at their most characteristic. While "Berber Song" nods to Rivard's roots in Moroccan folk music, the proggy "Goblin Garden" pays homage to Italian horror director Dario Argento.
Though the exclusive product of live improvisation, a studio quality often emerges, especially from Mister Rourke's sample board. Phasing drum samples compliment Kerr's live beats, and slices of sci-fi dialogue dart in-and-out of dark organ passages. Particularly apropos are the fragments of psychedelic guru Terrence McKenna 's testimony on what he calls "elf music," buried in the two-part "Salvia" sequence.
At once architectural and fluid, Perhapsody was no doubt properly handled before the shrink-wrap went on. Lucky for us, that responsibility carries over to when the wrapper comes off.
[Published on: 8/13/07]
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Keyboard Magazine
Perhapsody (Kufala Recordings)
Robbie Gennet
The musical collective known as Club d'Elf came together when bassist/composer Mike Rivard started a biweekly musical night at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, MA. On "Perhapsody," Rivard brings together a stellar cast of musicians including keyboardist John Medeski for some improvisational magic. Medeski cuts loose on an overdriven Wurly on "Life of the Mind" and B-3 on the percolating "Berber Song" amongst other keyboard highlights, giving this stellar collective a high-powered dose of funky keyboards. Drummer Erik Kerr keeps things solid underneath and a host of horns, guitars and turntables add flavor from across the musical spectrum. There are elements of jazz, trance, Moroccan grooves and soul/funk that make Club d'Elf a cool hybridization of styles. Whether you're a casual fan or a music head, Club D'Elf is a cool journey to send your mind and booty on! This Club is open for business. - ROBBIE GENNET
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Bass Player magazine Oct '07
Now I Understand
Reviewed by Bryan Beller
More than just a band, Club d'Elf is a rolling consortium of killer players (featuring John Medeski, Billy Martin, Dave Tronzo, Reeves Gabrels, and many more) organized and produced by acoustic/electric bassist Mike Rivard. Their tasty take on trip-hop jazz-rock-funk takes the John Scofield Uberjam and late Medeski Martin & Wood concepts to the next level of experimentation, with samples, unusual instruments, turntable scratching, curious noises and unique timbres scattered across the stereo spectrum, darting in and out of a late- night out-of-control party-jam-band atmosphere. The hat Rivard wears on this project is much more producer than bassist, but the tones and grooves he puts down in the middle of this long strange trip are greasy enough to keep the party going and then some (check out "Vishnu Dub" for a deep low-end carve). Smoke 'em if you got 'em. - Bryan Beller, Bass Player magazine
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Beyond Race (11.18.07)
Perhapsody review
Brad Farberman
Club d’Elf is not exactly your average band. First off, there’s only one permanent member of the ever-changing club: bassist and bandleader Mike Rivard. Second, d’Elf dropped their first studio album, last year’s Now I Understand, after eight years in existence; previously, they had released seven two-disc live albums. And now, less than a year since the release of Understand, we have Perhapsody, another two-disc live album, this time documenting their CD release party for Now I Understand. In the case of almost any other band, Perhapsody would be redundant. But this is another reason that d’Elf is not your average band. Perhapsody is a must-have, a killer album that is as different as can be from their excellent studio record. Plus, you’ll flip when you find out who’s chillin’ in the clubhouse this time around: keyboardist John Medeski and slide guitar monster Dave Tronzo joined Rivard that night for two sets of explosive music. Under the bassist’s careful supervision, they were free to roam the countryside of whatever distant land sounds they pleased, like a cross between James Brown and Medeski, Martin and Wood, with not-so-subtle dashes of dub, hip-hop and world music thrown in. Highlights include “Berber Song,” Rivard’s “The Tingler” and Steven Bernstein’s anthemic “Caveman.” An album worth checking out for its eclectic variety and unpredictability.
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The Wire (NH)/ 24 October 2007
(Review) Club d’Elf at The Stone Church, Oct. 20
Written by Matt Kanner
In Hunter S. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” the author explains that good mescaline comes on slow. Good music can be like that, too, and Club D’Elf is a case in point. The band members tinker and prod about with their instruments, listening to what they’re doing with one ear while absorbing the parallel tinkerings of fellow musicians with the other. It almost sounds like they’re still tuning their instruments at first, but little trinkets of cohesion soon begin to emerge, and a few toes unconsciously start tapping in the audience. You don’t know exactly when it happens, but after 15 minutes or so, you realize that the music has evolved into an adrenaline rush of rhythmic sound, with pulsing bass and percussion that send tremors through the dance floor.
When the Boston-based band made its monthly appearance at The Stone Church in Newmarket on Saturday, Oct. 20, the band really took its time. The music was scheduled to begin at 10 p.m., but the five musicians were still setting up and testing the soundboard at 10:30. The sparse audience, which suffered from competition with the Boston Red Sox’ American League Championship Series, sat patiently at tables, some nursing beers, others just gazing at the stage. It was a distinctly young audience, with several teenagers included in the 18- and-over crowd. They seemed eager for the rare chance to catch seasoned professionals in a small, local venue.
Club D’Elf includes a rotating cast of musicians, usually revolving around bandleader Mike Rivard on bass, Erik Kerr on drums and Brahim Fribqane on oud. Since its inception in 1998, the band has utilized an impressive assembly of sidemen, including Medeski, Martin and Wood keyboardist John Medeski, Soulive saxophonist Sam Kininger, DJ Logic and a couple of dozen others. On Saturday, Rivard’s multiple basses were accompanied by drums, saxophone, turntables and slide guitar.
It was Newmarket’s own Dave Tronzo, who only a few weeks ago opened for jazz legend John Scofield at The Church, on slide guitar. Seated on a stool and using a typically esoteric assortment of slides, Tronzo playfully exchanged musical quips with Rivard, creating an increasingly elaborate cat’s cradle of sound.
Rivard came equipped with an arsenal of bass instruments, including an upright acoustic bass, two electric bass guitars and a three- string Moroccan bass called a sintir. The latter is an unusual looking instrument, with a body made from a hollowed log covered with camel skin, and a neck made from a stick.
A medley of sounds spit from the turntables, including samples of early radio broadcasts of the Red Sox—the team that was in no small part responsible for leaving more than half of The Stone Church vacant on a Saturday night. The long, introductory improvisation gradually took shape, and Rivard eventually picked up the pace on one of his electric basses, spurring the drummer to follow suit.
Although individual instrumentalists occasionally stepped into the spotlight, the jazz-funk-ambient music consisted largely of simultaneous and seemingly unending improvisation by all five musicians. Depending on where you fixed your attention, you could focus on a scorching saxophone solo, multifarious bass lines or coiling guitar licks.
Club D’Elf released its first and only studio album, “Now I Understand,” just over a year ago, but a number of live discs are available, including several at Boston’s Lizard Lounge, where D’Elf long held a weekly residency. Club D’Elf will not make it to The Stone Church next month, but the band will return for monthly shows in December. Check The Stone Church schedule at www.thestonechurch.com for updates. For more on D’Elf, visit www.clubdelf.com.
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Club d'Elf "Perhapsody: Live 10.12.06" (Kufala)
By Ben Taylor, Transformonline
Monday. Jul 09, 3:17 PM
An unstoppable, far-out musical force captured live on two discs.
The last time we checked in with Boston’s Club d’Elf, they’d just released Now I Understand, their long in-the-works first studio album where they finally distilled the groove science they’d been perfecting in countless intimate club gigs. That excellent, if overly edited and tweaked, album was preceded by a half-dozen double-disc live albums, many recorded in their home base of the last decade, The Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, MA. It’s not surprising that they decided to document and unleash the proceedings of their record release show for Now I Understand, since they thrive on on-stage reinvention just like the great electric bands of one of their admitted heroes, Mile Davis. Releasing a live record so soon after a studio album, especially from a gig dominated by material from said studio album, is always the worst example of major label cash-in, but for a band as far-out and constantly re-inventive as Club d’Elf, it makes perfect sense. While it’s a jam-band cliché to say a band never plays the same set any given night, for Club d’Elf that’s really true, because the line-up so often changes from gig to gig, and bassist/leader Mike Rivard trusts his comrades to take the music in whatever direction it needs to go in order to make its way back to the ether from which they summoned it.
On this night in October 2006, they were firing on all cylinders with a crew who all appeared on Now I Understand (but given the slice-n- dice nature of modern digital editing, there’s no guarantee that any of them were necessarily in the studio at the same time). Launching the first set with the same “War of the Worlds”-esque stentorian radio announcement that kicks off the studio album, Rivard and monster drummer Eric Kerr coast in on the nimble groove of “Bass Beatbox.” DJ Mister Rourke adds some nice electronic flavors while Rivard does an understated dance around Kerr’s drum ‘n’ bass skittering. Things coast smoothly for a while until keyboardist John Medeski fires up some organ weirdness that splits the difference between jazz great Larry Young’s polytonal riffs and a funhouse/ roller rink meltdown. They don’t call this stuff “queasy listening” for nothing. Someone’s laying down a weird chirpy line that wouldn’t sound out of place on Herbie Hancock’s Sextant, but between two guitarists, the DJ, and Medeski, it’s anyone’s guess to what instrument is actually making what sound.
The most eye-opening moments here are the transitions between songs, easy enough to do with a mouse stroke in the studio, but harder to pull off live on the spot, especially with as little rehearsal as these guys probably get. While the band is free-ranging improv experiment, Rivard is always there dropping hand signals to cue players in and out, and he’s got such a rapport with Kerr that they pull this stuff off like they’d been planning it all along. Again, the comparisons with ‘70s electric Miles arise, but these guys also know when to tame things slightly and lay into some really nice spacious grooves, trimmed of any fat or noodling bullshit.
Medeski is definitely the biggest name here, and while his presence will hopefully attract attention to this great but still somewhat unheralded group, he’s definitely not the only heavy-hitter here. Duke Levine and Dave Tronzo’s dual-guitar attack leaves heads spinning with their casual virtuosity and restraint. Two lead guitars sparring with Medeski seems like a recipe for wanky disaster, but these guys never seem to step on any toes. Levine especially knows how to spice things up from the sidelines, providing gentle support with pedal steel-like harmonics and glisses.
Probably the main difference from the studio versions of this material is the absence of Brahim Frigbane, a charter member of the group who makes strong contributions on Middle Eastern lute and percussion, and provides the most exotic sounds to an already polyglot sonic stew. They stick a little closer to straight-ahead groove here (“straight-ahead” being a relative term: check out the molasses-thick “That is My Voice” sounding like The Meters jamming with R2D2 after downing a family-size bottle of Robitussin), with Medeski’s organ workouts leading the charge through some tough grooves and Kerr laying down a harder pocket than the lighter stylings of Billy Martin, Medeski’s regular sparring partner in Medeski Martin & Wood.
Plowing through dub, world beat, funk, jazz, and just pure sound (both acoustic and electronic), Club d’Elf are an unstoppable musical force, and Kufala does an excellent job of documenting the live experience (they’re doing good things with the packaging, too: Perhapsody is one of the first discs to come in their new bio- degradable non-plastic shrinkwrap). For people who can’t make it to The Lizard Lounge, this double-disc bonanza does a great job of making you feel like you’re in the middle of it all. Some might’ve thought that the studio excursions on Now I Understand were something that wasn’t physically possible to play, but these jams prove otherwise. It’s a must-have companion to Now I Understand and a fine purchase on its own. For those seeking new funky music that isn’t afraid to color outside the lines, this is a great place to start.
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AUGUST 2007
CLUB D’ELF
Perhapsody • Kufala
Relix
This two-CD live set from The Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, MA, in October 2006, is chock full of jamming. Some of it’s inspired, some of it’s a tad insipid. So what? What makes Perhapsody a fun, slightly jocular take on rock-meets-jazz are the arrangements that couch some great solos. There are moments of tape-recorded lunacy mixed in the producer/leader Mike Rivard, guitarists Dave Tronzo and Duke Levin, keyboardist John Medeski, drummer Erik Kerr and turntablist Mister Rourke reprise their “intro/Bass Beatbox” from last year’s Now I Understand (Accurate). The music is relatively seamless, one selection flowing into another, everyone sounding like they know where they are and where they are going. Lots of heat, some relative calm, e.g., the smooth/Milesian “Goblin Garden,” even a taste of some 6/8 Eddie Harris tucked into the funky “That Is My Voice.” * John Ephland
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Perhapsody
Maurizio Comandini, All About Jazz Italia
Mike Rivard's Club d'Elf continues its work of the deconstruction and expansion of improvised trance music unperturbed with this optimal double live album which their friends at independent and progressive Kufala records are promptly putting on the market.
In this case we find ourselves in front of an extended version of the band (which, however, is unavoidably a mutable entity by design of the project), which was reunited October 12, 2006 at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, on the periphery of Boston, to celebrate the release of their studio album 'Now I Understand'. By now a locale well known to fans of the American band, it is a true and just friendly territory insofar as the Lizard Lounge can be imagined as the home base of the group, who have played there practically every Thursday from 1998 until today.
Next to the bassist Mike Rivard, the true democratic leader of the band, we find John Medeski, the two excellent electric guitars of Dave Tronzo and Duke Levine, the turntables and samples of Mister Rourke, the original drummer of the group Erik Kerr, the saxophonist Tom Hal and the trombonist Tom Halter.
A festive and exciting occasion renders the habitually incessant groove even more lively and wriggling. In the air, suggestions of Northern Africa and superimpositions of charming timbres materialize which let us catch a glimpse into an urban jungle of which each of us dreams in the enchanted mid-summer nights, projecting into the future of its personal world at the limits of possibility.
The telepathic contact that is created between the rhythm section and the other musicians engaged on stage is by now legendary and finds no obstacle in the fact that its lineup is, for this occasion, much wider than usual. Indeed it could be said that the major availability of colors is an ulterior element which Rivard knows how to employ to capture the minds of listeners and drag them sweetly and lightly onto his unending journey to slowly see the surrounding panorama change, like a train which floats weightlessly on magnetic tracks and moves between mysterious worlds of the collective imagination.
In the end we can justly see this group as an expanded rhythm section which moves incessantly and with extreme fluidity surrounded by a thousand colors manifested through links of phrases and of solos which seem to come from nothing, only to disappear magically behind a corner we never would have considered. The great quality of the soloists involved (above all Medeski and Tronzo) is such that the recipe will always be tasty and exciting and the formidable empathy which comes to be created in these by now mythical evenings makes every negative tension dissipate and lets only positive energies emerge. Pure magic.
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JUNE 27, 2007
Village Voice
Club D'Elf: Now I Understand (Accurate)
As the name implies, this is less a group than a meeting place, with a website listing more than 100 conspirators beyond a core–bassist Mike Rivard, drummer Eric Kerr, and oudist Brahim Fribgane–that favors fast grooves and world fusion. Special guests abound, with keyb whiz John Medeski, avant-violist Mat Maneri, and turntablist DJ Logic the best-known. My faves are the kids on the reggae track "Just Kiddin'" and the rapper who sounds like Dr. Dooom. A MINUS
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O's Place Jazz Newsletter - Feb '07
Club d’Elf - Now I Understand 3/2
O's Notes: Here we have a spacey mix of electronics, guitars and DJs. It is rock, fusion with screaming guitars on "Vis Hnu Dub" taking us to the outer limits but then bringing back into a sense of calm with "A Toy For A Boy" including the soft vocals of Jenifer Jackson. Then there is the cool eerie funk of the title track and a taste of reggae on "Just Kiddin'". Behind the chaos we have some fine musicians including Mat Maneri (electric viola), John Medeski (B3), DJ Logic (turntables) and producer Mike Rivard (b). But you've got to be ready for this level of adventure.
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Northeast Performer - March, 2007
Club d'Elf
October 2006 saw the release of an incredibly ambitious music project, which, for aficionados of the improv/jam scenes, was long overdue. Now I Understand, the first studio album by local virtuosos Club d'Elf, marked the end of a mega-project involving over 25 musicians and nine recording studios. Mike Rivard and his lengthy list of collaborators spent eight years recording and mixing the material that ended up on the record. This year marks the ninth anniversary of the group, whose ever-changing lineup plays regular Thursday night gigs at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge. Inviting artists to Club d'Elf gigs is a task for which Rivard eagerly assumes responsibility, being both the creator and only permanent fixture in the group. Rivard has a long-standing musical relationship with most of the adjunct members and is familiar with their improvisational abilities, allowing for widely varied interpretations of the songs based on the combination of players on any given night.
So how does one play music for over two hours without having rehearsed and with a lineup that is in a constant state of flux? Rivard describes the performance as "an equal forum in which all players are having a conversation." It involves, more than anything else, listening to what is happening within the room, and then responding. This performance aesthetic has theoretical roots in Dixieland, where everyone is soloing, but also no one is soloing. The sum of the players interjecting and dropping out creates a sort of "group solo," where no one artist takes the spotlight. Thus, the musicians move forward, telling a story as a group and passing the narrative around. One could perhaps anticipate how the aural textures provided by the different instruments would mix together, but never the direction of the music itself.
Now I Understand was not conceived under the assumption of ultimately releasing a CD, but more as a means of documenting the performances of Rivard's compositions. During the years of tracking, the group put to tape (and eventually to disk) an immense body of material, working out of several studios with a host of different engineers. After laying down all the tracks, Rivard then took on the role as classical composer, applying orchestral arrangement techniques to the countless tracks on each song. Consequently, the project yielded meta-versions of songs they'd reinterpreted (and continue to reinterpret) countless times live.
The album itself is a sprawling journey through a dense sonic landscape. The broad palette of musical textures that phase in and out of the listener's awareness are expertly mixed into a cohesive unit and take form as symphonic movements. For a band whose main avenue is live performance, the fundamental differences of working in a studio required a slightly different approach. Rhythm sections for songs were tracked live, retaining the communal interaction so essential to the band's sound. The mixing environment allowed for an attention to detail not attainable during live shows, creating a more pleasing listening experience on record. The live show centers on the group's energy and spontaneity, and the recordings try to capture that as authentically as possible.
The majority of the Club d'Elf repertoire is rooted in the complex rhythm section of Rivard and drummer Erik Kerr. Kerr delivers laid back funk grooves and driving kick/snare patterns of trance/drum n' bass, adding his unique embellishments along the way. Rivard's bass tones range from smooth, upright sounds to grinding sub bass pulses, warped through envelope filters and fueled by a '60s-era jazz bass. He also features a Moroccan sintir on a few songs. The sintir is a three-stringed fretless instrument with a warm, droning tone. Brahim Fribgane, the group's third core member, alternates between percussion instruments and the oud, a fretless instrument that evokes both classical guitar and sitar. Moving adeptly through the shadows of d'Elf grooves and jumping in and out of the spotlight is the turntable work of Mister Rourke, who beat matches with the drums, sweeps through time and space effects, and plays samples offering instructions on how to improve radio reception or prophesizing the end of civilization as we know it. Each piece has a few clearly defined sections, providing just enough of a framework for the musical conversation to occur.
With a masterfully created album now available and over two more hours of completed material still in his hands, Rivard intends to keep his momentum going. Now I Understand is both the first and also the darkest of the d'Elf material, in part due to the political climate over the past few years. Subsequent releases will emphasize the Moroccan influence on the Club d'Elf sound and eventually return to a lighter side of trance - the reward for getting through the darker periods.
Written by Dan Cardinal
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All About Jazz - Jan 10, 2007
Now I Understand Review By Chris M. Slawecki
About eight years ago, composer/bassist Mike Rivard began leading a “floating residency” in Cambridge, Massachusetts, organized around the rhythm section, which pulsed behind a kaleidoscope of horn, keyboard, percussion and guitar players. After seven live releases, Rivard has finally shepherded his “ever-changing performance ensemble” into its first studio album.
No fewer than 25 musicians participate in the workshop, happily hammering around the core “Elves”: Rivard on basses and sintir, a three-stringed bass lute from Morocco; drummer Erik Kerr; turntablist Mister Rourke; and Brahim Fribgane on percussion, oud and dumbek.
Miles Davis most likely would have laughed his ass off, but in the best way, at Now I Understand as a bastard child of Bitches Brew. Bitches Brew experimented with essential elements of modern jazz, rock and funk, in new ways, for new purposes; Now I Understand does essentially the same thing—experiment and improvise—but instead uses progressive rock, hip-hop and indigenous music as its raw material. Rivard explains that although many of the band are trained musicians and have come from the jazz tradition, they’re also informed by the aesthetic of DJ culture.
Their exotic journey begins with “Bass Beat Box,” a Club staple built up from Rivard’s ascending bass scale and hammered down by two drummers (Jay Hilt plays “slow” with Kerr on “fast” drums). Electronic effects polish the drums to sound robotic, metallic—the pounding corrosive sound of futuristic funk.
A fluffy sound cloud (“Quilty”) melts into “Vishnu Dub,” strikingly colored by Fribgane’s oud and dumbek while guitarists Gerry Leonard and Duke Levine explore outer galaxies of sound. In the cool shadow of Jenifer Jackson’s doe-eyed vocal, “A Toy For A Boy” sounds like lost Syd Barrett, an oddly peaceful haven from the aggressive, relentless experimentation that follows in “Wet Bones (extended),” an interstellar reggae-dub cryptogram that builds outward in layers, and the electro-ethnic tour de force “Visions Of Kali.”
An octet that turns on guitarist Reeves Gabrels, keyboardist John Medeski and turntablist DJ Logic paints a portrait in sound for the title track, an electronic thrust into the blackest heart of modern darkness.
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popMatters - Jan 6, 2007
This isn’t morning music—unless, that is, the time is 3 a.m. and you’ve been club-hoppin’ since 11. Now I Understand is a hybridization of night music: jazz, funk, drum n’ bass, dub, and turntables. You can dance to it or let it put you in a trance—the latter, perhaps, being more appropriate, since Club d’Elf (read: “clubbed elf") derived its name from the trance-inspired writings of Terrence McKenna. This band thrives in a live setting and loves stretching out, as proved by the six (!) double-disc (!!) live recordings that preceded Now I Understand. It seems, then, that this 13-track, 67-minute studio release (their first) could be called Club d’Elf condensed. Boston bassist Mike Rivard leads the band’s rotating cast of characters. In sum, 25 musicians contribute to Now I Understand, including John Medeski, Billy Martin, DJ Logic, and Mat Maneri, and together they generate a smorgasbord of styles that is both a heady and exhausting. At its best, Club d’Elf masters jazz-funk-world-fusion (the title track and “Vishnu Dub"). The band also admirably gives Jenifer Jackson room to breathe on the sultry “A Toy for a Boy”, with Jackson providing the album’s only non-sampled vocals. At its worst, the band evokes comparison with a DJ suffering from attention-deficit disorder ("And Shadow Saw the Gods"). And although oud and tablas lend an appealing Moroccan influence to the dense “Quilty”, the song starts wearing thin in its sixth minute. I can’t quite determine if “Wet Bones (Extended)” is a genius space odyssey or a train wreck of obfuscation—your experience may depend on the time of day and your state of consciousness. Something tells me Club d’Elf would suggest that the time be night and your state be altered.
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