Date(s) - 07/14
7:30pm - 11:15pm
552 Haight Street
San Francisco, CA
Ralph White, Evidence Trio, DMTD, Earth Jerks
Thur July 14, 8pm-11pm $5-$15 sliding scale (notaflof!) all ages
Peacock Lounge, 552 Haight, SF
An erstwhile tree-doctor who picked up and left Texas after extending his techniques to include that cauliflower in your skull, the roots of which he’ll steer to dislodge the stone in your chest. Apart from being a living druid, Ralph White was inducted to the Austin Music Hall of Fame as a core member of the legendary trio, Bad Livers. He’s explored ancient music in remote regions of Namibia, Australia, Mexico and Louisiana and now lives an itinerant life not confined to four dimensions. “His solo work is possessed of a lonesome spark, exaggerating the implied drone at the heart of the music of Dock Boggs and The Stanley Brothers… playing wooden six-string banjo, violin, accordion and kalimba, his voice has a high, eerie quality… extremely psychedelic” -(David Keenan, The Wire UK)
Mbira, flute and alto maestera Kersti Abrams unites with vibrational bassist Thomas Harrison and thereminist Andrew Joron to establish the avant-space improv Evidence Trio. Just as the material world refutes all theorization, the way variance of electron swarms yields mysteries of solid matter, so that wailing emanation of the void’s own disquiet unfurls in the monochord of Joron’s theremin as Harrison’s bass prods silence to move while Abrams’ melodics depart orbit into adjacent shells, splintering fractions of light as proof of the non-hierarchical universe which answers ahead of every question, unravelling endlessly to spawn what is unfamiliar, immediate, yet enduring.
David Molina and Thomas Dimuzio may seem still, the way whales appear motionless even as they vanish into miles of blue. Leviathans of experimental music, sound is the ocean that moves through them. Pull up alongside and you’ll see hands tangled inseparably from instruments, cephalopod guitar mantle and patchchord tentacles jetting alien ink from some sunless chamber. Next to one another, these two form the duo called DMTD. Deep in your mind you swear they’re *both* holding guitars? A thermocline forms, edges of a lake take shape, a lake submerged within the icy ocean. Reality is now a jelly-slime, primordial ooze longing for liquefaction.
Since less is more, nothing is the ultimate. Easier said than survived though. Walk, don’t run to the glacial tempo of Christian Dixon’s emo-surf-drone that reveals far more space, time and flow than you’ll ever ride out. With no shore in sight why surrender your senses to dread or distraction? Electromagnetism, gravitation, nuclear force both strong and weak already churn within, so lay your ear to the rocks above and below and between your ears. Hear what you’re hearing, know what you already know.