Formed in 2008 by Brooklyn residents Ev Gold (vocals / guitar) and Paul Claro (drums), Cinema Cinema have been branded “experi-metal punks”, which is a nice way of saying that the unhinged duo roam across boundaries at will, their slapdash, anarchic noise marking them out the perfect band to play support to the likes of Black Flag. CCXMD sees the band further their horizons by recruiting Matt Darriau (The Klezmatics) for a jazz-infused, largely improvised session that edges into territory that Thurston Moore has long called home. The results are most assuredly not for mainstream consumption, but for those who like to experience music as a unique, artistic outpouring, this is most assuredly an exciting and worthwhile endeavour.
Following a short tuning session designed, primarily, to thoroughly disconcert the listener (collective output), Cinema Cinema kick the album proper off with the eerie cyclops. Based around a single, repetitive guitar riff awash with squealing sax and pitchshifting guitar, it slowly develops into a dark jazz groove with a tense undercurrent – sort of like the Melvins-play-Miles-Davis (sadly not actually a thing) – which is pretty sweet. The follow up, the noir-ish revealed sees the trio scoring the murder scene to a particularly gritty piece of fifties cinema, Ev’s vocals delivered with manic, Mike Patton-esque fervour and buried within the mix just enough to make them subtly threatening. Around this, Matt’s barely coherent sax flutters like some wing-ed beast, further adding to the sense of some surreal, yet potent existential threat. Adopting a very different tonal palette, the wild-eyed Colours utilises flute to evoke images of America’s wide-open spaces, Paul’s flourishes on the cymbals enhancing the sense of light and space. It is a subtle, underplayed piece that is torn asunder only when the spasmodic radio ready assaults the senses with another hyperactive blast of noise reminiscent of Sonic Youth’s collaboration with ICP and The Ex (In The Fishtank Vol. 9).
The album’s undisputed highlight is also its longest track. Opening with Eastern-tinged guitar and haunting flute work, Ode To A Gowanus Flower (in tribute to the band’s home town) takes on a mystical edge that recalls the Doors’ The End and, like that haunting soundtrack to the apocalypse, there’s a lyricism in the music that the band allow to develop organically, teasing out each element and building a sense of groove that is surprisingly accessible, for all the outré noise that surrounds it. It finally devolves into a storm of feedback, noise and screaming, as if the band applied jazz to the blue print of Nirvana’s Endless Nameless and you can only hope that the band use this is a closing song on their next tour, because it truly is a majestic, slow-burning beast. It leaves only cloud 3; a short, somewhat uncomfortable coda with elements of early Pink Floyd mixed up in its DNA; to see the album out. A somewhat nebulous piece, it seems the perfect end to an endlessly fascinating, oft-disconcerting body of work.
This very clearly is music of niche appeal, designed to flout convention and explore the outer limits of what can be achieved by an art-rock collective. When the band hit a groove, as they do on Cyclops and Ode To A Gowanus Flower, theirs is a potent force indeed and it’s easy to imagine such tracks having a powerful live impact. Elsewhere, the band immerse themselves in the simple joy of creation, with tracks like revealed and colours proving to be evocative pieces of music that benefit from listening on headphones in order to tease out the many elements. Challenging and exciting, CCXMD is a bold step away from the norm and, for those curious as to the elastic limits of jazz, well worth checking out. 8.5
