**1/2 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 Brötzmann’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
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