Joe Russo’s New Group Selcouth Quartet Blend Several Improvisational Era Influences On Stellar Self-Titled Debut (ALBUM REVIEW)

Picture yourself in the northern reaches of mountainous, sparsely populated Iceland. Close your eyes and imagine the sounds you might hear and then open them and take in the vast snow-covered vistas. The soundtrack you would associate with such a situation might well be that delivered by the new improvisational Selcouth Quartet, headed by drummer (also piano, Rhodes, marimba, effects) Joe Russo along with frequent collaborator, saxophonist/clarinetist/flutist Stuart Bogie, bassist Jon Shaw, and guitarist/effects Jonathan Goldberger.

The lingering question is likely, “Why Iceland?” The Nordic country is the home of Flóki Studios, the surroundings of which are described in the opening sentence. Readers of these pages may recall our reviews of The New Mastersounds 2022 Deplar Effect and this past July’s Flóki Sessions – Boots in Place with George Porter Jr., Eddie Roberts, Nikki Glaspie, and Robert Walter, both on the label Color Red, as is this one. Yet, the likely inspiration for Russo and gang to trek to Iceland may have been the recent Flóki recording of Grateful Dead ballads by Oteil Burbridge, Lovely View of Heaven.

Besides that, though, there was a bit of serendipity in play as the group was supposed to play a show that was canceled and soon unexpectedly received an invitation to record in these isolated environs. The band, never having played together as a unit, was born in the studio. Russo cites, in describing inspirations for the sound, in addition to the unique locale, ‘90s Thrill Jockey from Chicago, the experimental Knitting Factory and loft scenes in NYC in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and not surprisingly, the ECM sound, which has many of its albums recorded in the neighboring Nordic countries. That same feeling of open spaciousness is crucial to this sound of The Selcouth Quartet, who spent five days in the studio, ultimately delivering nine tracks that stretch to little over an hour. 

With its alternating contemplative fare and intensely riveting jam-like passages, the album mostly succeeds except for the drawn-out 15-minute cut that ends the album, which we’ll get to later. Three of these have been released as singles – “Smaller Horses,” “Dragon, Bull, Vulture, Giant” and “100 Words for Wind.” The latter opens, casting an alternately gleaming and haunting spell with feedback-drenched guitar, rustling effects to simulate wind, and Bogie’s tenor and synth. Russo enters, setting a groove three minutes in as Bogie builds an intense, beseeching, swerving, aggressive solo before guitarist Goldberger responds in kind, leading us into a deep psychedelic haze, punctuated by Russo’s whirlwind activity on his kit.

The quartet is off to a flying, impressive start. “Smaller Horses” is by turns melodic and ethereal, as the group revolves around the ostinato from the Rhodes and bass while Bogie floats over on clarinet and bass clarinet. As the title suggests, “Dragon, Bull, Vulture, Giant” packs a punch with Russo insistently propelling Bogie (on tenor, flute, clarinet, and organ) and Goldberger to chug forward. The latter employs wah-wah and there’s a distant whooshing effect present here as well as on the other two, but the prevailing thump of Russo and Shaw is unrelenting, inspiring wild improvisation from the front liners. 

“Hidden People” is a short, meandering interlude-like piece while “Limited Light” and “Unlimited Light” are dreamy ECM-like pieces, again rather obviously relating to the beautiful but spooky atmosphere (best depicted in the cover art of Deplar Effect, by the way) with Bogie’s gorgeous flute and Goldberger’s imaginative sustained guitar tones imbuing the former. The latter builds from its initial otherworldly vibe into a melodic, jubilant Bogie clarinet excursion. The feedback-drenched “Gyr,” a feature for Goldberger, sounds as if a storm is brewing outside. “Before We’re Sunken” likely destined for a single at some point, surprisingly has an initial section with whispery vocals (from Nanna)  and evolves into a lilting, melodic piece. It would have been a nice closer to this otherwise terrific album, marred by the 15-minute plus “Ólgusjór,” which sounds as if someone left the tape recorder on outside to capture the sounds of wind and rain. No other instrumentation occurs until the last couple of minutes. 

That aside, the sonics and the pristine production alone make this a most worthwhile listen. Stay tuned. The Selcouth Quartet is just getting started.

Related Content

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Posts

New to Glide

Keep up-to-date with Glide

Twitter