In 2000 I decided to spend a long time in New York. Most nights I left Brooklyn to go to Tonic, a beautiful club located on the Lower East Side between Rivington and Delancey and run by John and Melissa. In that period it became my second home and I was able to see many extraordinary concerts there.
At that time I also decided to put together this bizarre ensemble involving some of the most interesting musicians of the New York downtown music scene of that moment, whom I thank again for their friendship. It was a real joy for me to be able to present that project live for the first time right at the Tonic, in an evening that remains memorable for me. John Zorn was in the audience that night, which probably created some tension for me, but above all there, sitting in the front row, were Irving Stone and his wife Stephanie, and as Jim Eigo said in the liner notes of the beautiful tribute record dedicated to Irving: “If the Stones were in the house you knew you were in the right place.” This is what happened that Wednesday night.
Hope you enjoy!
-Z


"Experimental Funeral" is the second track of Zeno De Rossi's album, but it could almost name the genre of the music being played by this youngish quartet. Ted Reichman's melancholy accordion weaves cluster into Jamie Saft's analogue synth drones, underpinned by an ominous pallbearer's beat from De Rossi's drums. Like the arrival of the professional mourning woman, Briggan Krauss's alto sax keens with a very human voice. After a while Krauss rips out a wail of anguish and fluently builds a lamentation from muffled, half-strangled notes. The piece climaxes at 11 minutes with a remarkable group scream, not a free jazz frenzy of rapid notes, but a sustained, united arrival at a single pitch of emotion.It's a cathartic moment. Patient accumulation is the keynote of this powerful record. The opening 21 minute track is all about long notes and building passions. Krauss may occasionally explode into a sluttering foray, but the others are content to seethe around him like prowling animals waiting for the kill. The ancient synth machinery of Jamie Saft anchors the group's activity in sinister rumbling and drones, at time bursting out like the soundtrack for an especially bloodyminded sci-fi movie. Elements of Jewish and European folk music contribute to the mix, not so much adding melody as informing the dark backdrop for Krauss's laments.
Mightily potent.
- Clive Bell from The WIRE #231, May 2003