PRJ035 - Aeolipile Glut

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Tracklist:

  1. Glut
  2. Paused Pregnancy

Format: 7"
Price: £6.00
Released: August 2014
250 Copies


Reviews for Glut

The Wire, November 2014

'Trio from Brighton featuring the whacked sax of Jason Williams, from the great, under-appreciated Archaic Braille. Free jazz with jumbo electric bass and sax/drums parts that keep their skronk field tightly focussed.'

IDWAL FISHER, October 2014

'The semi-detached house of suburban jazz has many rooms, but if you want to find the one with improv in it you'll have to take a walk down the garden path to the potting shed whereupon you'll find three people and their instruments squeezed in between the old paint tins and the smelly paraffin heater. Having come across the Amazon jazz forum during my recent jazz tinged travels I came across a thread mentioning European Improv. Its the jazz sub genre, the mere mention of which, is sure to give promoters and certain jazz purists a sleepless night or two. It comes with a reputation you see. That of cold skronking jazz played in black and white television studios to an earnest looking, slightly bored looking audience attired in clothing that has only been in fashion once. Happily this has nothing to do with what follows. Seeing as how we're in a jazz mood here it seems sense to take in Aeolipile. A three piece jazz improv/skronk/parp outfit that features amongst its members, the towering presence [both figuratively and literally] of a certain Jason Williams. Jason is know to us and that we can be sure of. Jason Williams is agent provocateur for the south coast of England, a noise in search of a home. In Aeolipile, he plays sax, along with Andy Pyne [drums] and Tom Roberts [bass]. Together they make the kind of improv/skronk/parp jazz noise that you kind of knew they would. And very good it is too. Not that I know anything about it as you'll have gathered from the above. [Whilst typing this I've been listening to Frank Wright's 'Unity' that's not a name drop its just whats been happening of late during the recent autumnal jazz period]. Aeolipile aren't Borbetomagus, the configurations wrong for a start. Neither are they sonic terrorists. They're jazzers. Perhaps a derogatory term but it will have to do. Jazzers of an 'out there' nature coming in somewhere between Albert Ayler and New York New Wave. On 'Glut' Tom Roberts bass sounds 'chunky', the drums and the sax do battle gamely. On 'Paused Pregnancy' they do the same. Jason Williams sure does make that sax honk, squeal and whine though. At times he makes it sound like a dog being strangled, others it just blows a guttural deep honking sound as a series of rapid notes splutter and splatter. There's no doubting that these guys have the 'chops' as someone once said. The bigger question here is, is there space in this world for a seven inch jazz improv/skronk/parp single? For which the answer is a positive yes. Why not? We may not be breaking new ground here but its fun to hear and no doubt fun to play and whats wrong with that?'

The Sunday Experience, August 2014

'Which neatly brings me to the final instalment of this vinyl trio, a twin tracking scowling jazz head butt from Aeolipile who much to our horror and embarrassment apparently released their debuting EP ‘Jacques de Vaucanson’ earlier this year as a free download via bandcamp – more details below. This lot – a trio incidentally – feature amid their ranks workaholic wired dude Andy Pyne, Tom Roberts of infinite gaaah and bolide and Jason Williams (mothers of the third reich / deepkiss 720) collectively forge a rabid and rampant psychotic stew of Zorn-ish groove not least on the frankly freakish ‘glut’ where the maddening hysteria of the shrilled sax delights in forming schizoid patterns across the kind of obtusely angular and frantically warped time signatures( that would be the wet dream of mathematicians) whittling away beneath to mutate a spazzed out jazz hybrid that imagines Albert Ayler gate crashing an evening studio soiree of Henry Cow types. Likewise over on the flip ‘paused pregnancy’ opts to veer into sonic territories that would cause most to flinch, a caustic cacophony of fringe flipping no wave white hot jazz fury which devotees of James Chance and the Contortions will do well to check out at their earliest (in)convenience – no prizes for guessing then that this is essential head splitting groove.'