Sara Hallie Richardson

Micromassé: Because You Have Friends

Sam

Party like it’s 1986

Micromassé bring their Friends to the party

Twelve songs and 45 minutes: So over! The single reigns supreme.

No wonder instrumental trio Micromassé chose to follow-up their debut self-titled full-length with a two-song maxi-single of sorts. How very contemporary [this was written in late 2014].

Except that they printed it up on a CD and gave it a proper title, Because You Have Friends. With a “Side A” and a “Side B,” even if they’re only one long song each. How very 1986.

That was the year, of course, that Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush released “Don’t Give Up,” which Micromassé cover as their opening track, with Sara Hallie Richardson donating her skills to cover both the verse and chorus parts and Lucas Desmond, Joe Parra and Dave Noyes lending horn talents (hence the album title: the lyric from the song and all the guest types).

Heard the full album version of “Don’t Give Up” lately? Off So? It’s actually pretty funky, with two distinct movements and a touch of afrobeat, stretching out past six minutes (of the numerous cover versions, I’ll take Willie Nelson and Sinead O’Connor). Micromassé get that all out of the way in about 3:25. Richardson sings the verses in feverish double time, then takes a few beats to hit the Bush falsetto in the chorus, and it turns the song inside out, making “the trees had burned down to the ground” sound like an upbeat Irish reel.

By the “we’re proud of who you are” finishing lyrics, she’s in full-voice vibrato, more aggressive than you’ve heard her, dialing up the song’s intensity. Still, though, the track’s only halfway done.

Then it’s time for the funk (in a non-cheesy way), Max Cantlin laying down a hopping bass and Pete Dugas firing in organ chords before a three-piece horn section turns it into a rave-up, with Richardson just languidly dripping in takes on the title phrase. Two takes on the same song, one rock-pop, the other open jazz, back to back, one track. And a lot of fun.

“Tout Le Monde,” the side B written by Dugas, is much more Herbie Hancock. Parra’s baritone sax is a fat bleat in the opening riffs and the first great break comes from Chris Sweet on the conga/percussion break, which is joined by Dugas with unique percussive organ work.

Later, at six minutes or so, the percussion drops away to nothing but handclaps and we get a series of riffs from Noyes on the trombone and Desmond on the alto sax, with Cantlin laying down a wicka-wicka behind them that’s only in the right channel. The contrast with the intense opening track is striking – this is laid back, messing around, seeing what happens. It’s hard not to get a kick out of the interplay and choreography.

By the time everyone comes back in for the full-band sound, they’re just rolling, with a big band sound like one of those New Orleans stages full of family friends.

But we’re referencing 1986 here, remember, so you’d better be expecting the digital interruption that comes in late, like someone changed the channel to the digital input so they could resume a game of Frogger (watch out for the random fast cars!). It rips you right out of the pocket.

Not to worry, though. It’s only 20 seconds worth, and then it’s right back to the jam, horns swelling and jabbing, organ in lock step, drums conjuring up dreams of Cuba in a sweaty close out that finally stretches past 10 minutes.

Really, Micromassé as a trio works just fine, a jazz outfit rolled in future dust with a great album of smart instrumentals, but these friends are difference makers that create a funkier complement to some of the great R&B outfits Portland has put together (Inside Straight, Model Airplane, etc.). It’s likely a one-off, but that’s more than fine if Micromassé has a few more ideas for creative expression up their sleeves.

KGFREEZE: VOLUNTEER

Sam

Sign me up

KGFREEZE returns with plenty of hand raisers

Because Kyle Gervais is constitutionally unable to be in a band, we are left with his solo project, KGFREEZE. While that may be frustrating for fans (and members) of great bands like Cosades and Grand Hotel, it isn’t bad consolation for those interested in hearing truly interesting and exploratory music.

And because Gervais has decided the classic “band” music-making structure is not for him, it’s even easier for him to pivot with his songwriting whims. On his first KGFREEZE album, Sociopath, that meant he played all the instruments himself and created a grimy, inward-looking piece, as the name would imply. Similarly, on the brand-new VOLUNTEER (I’m just going with capitalization thing – AP Style be damned) he has enlisted a Brady Bunch of collaborators, who share songwriting credits and contribute vocals, musicianship and production.

The results are among the best in an already-impressive resume of recorded works. The album is dynamic, engaging, and thought-provoking – even at times a whole lot of fun.

“Better Falsetto” is the highlight, which you know already if you’ve seen the video charging about social media. It is Gervais aping Justin Timberlake, a recalcitrant crooner who doesn’t have to worry about what the radio edit might sound like, with Jared Burst filling in for Jay-Z in the rapped bridge. Almost as a throwaway, it has a hook like Seal’s “Kissed by a Rose” (I had forgotten the Batman connection to that song) that will have you belting out the chorus in random places before you know you’re doing it.

Burst, too, does great work. He merges with the verse in a half-time slur, then slaps you out of your reverie: “Who gives a fuck about whatever his name is?” And Sean Morin (Daro, Cambiata, etc.) sets the mood with a works of synths and beats.

This rival is often a topic of conversation. In “Talk About Love,” Gervais wonders, “How would he feel if he knew what I was doing to you.” But then he changes the pronouns, turns the song on its head, makes the finish of the six-and-a-half-minute piece into an entreaty: “Let’s talk about love … whatever that means.” And the last minute-plus is a distorted fade-out, like being forcibly dragged, with teases at speeding back up that ultimately sputter out in Derek Gierhan’s drums.

In the strutting and spare “Top Secret,” we get the other side of the story, in the form of Sara Hallie Richardson’s dark evanescence, peppered with laughter and chatting: “I’ve met you many times before/ You give nothing and keep asking for more … Gotta make sure that you meet your needs before you meet mine/ I can’t begin to explain to you, how useless you are.”

And, yet, you get the sense they’re sleeping together. (The couple in the song. Not Gervais and Richardson.)

Gervais and company love contradictions – changes of tempo, of mood and setting. The opening and title track is nothing but moody synths, slightly industrial, with muted vocals that mimic the lyrics, “I don’t really care.” And then, after three minutes, it gets awesome, with guitar melody and chords in opposing channels and downright danceable.

Suddenly, that extended, all-instrumental jam crashes into “Power + Status,” declaring immediately that, “I still get fucked up on week nights / With people I don’t know / When you’re not around” in traditional guitar/bass/drums structure. This is the Gervais you know best, full-throated and doubled delivery: “I talk a lotta shit people about / People I shouldn’t talk shit about.”

And he’s right. No one cares about that. Especially if he can combine with the likes of Miek Rodrigue to elicit pointed guitar solos and Jacob Battick’s alter-ego AFRAID to create the Moby-like “Good Times Roll,” a repeating and cycling mash-up of early rock and contemporary digitization. The piano is like a skipping CD in the open, pounding and insistent, but AFRAID is warm and inviting, careful in his delivery, not unlike Damon Albarn in “Tender,” which similarly rolled the same words around to see how they sounded.

Then we get a deep bass, a flute-like lilt, and some snare. Like the 7:18-long “Song 9,” it’s the kind of work you can listen to on repeat for hours if need be, though “Song 9” is more like something off the Sixteen Candles Soundtrack, with Pretenders licks and a Men Without Hats” keyboard line. Plus lines like, “I just want to hold you / Sometimes / I think I’d like to get to know you.”

Is that you, Ducky?

The whole thing is just ducky by me, I’ll say that. KGFREEZE doesn’t make easy pop fare, but you can see the wheels turning behind every track and you can listen to them for days on end.