Sydney Spann - Sending Up A Spiral Of

The great Recital deliver once again with this generous-hearted, concept-directed debut from New York-based musician & sound artist, Sydney Spann. The aforementioned concept centres on family systems, care work and, though this specific term is not used, what seems to be the autodidactic understanding and engagement with sound and listening developed through professional practice. In short, how people talk and listen as a part of their labour, and how it is they learn to do these things. How Spann has transposed that idea into song and composition is not especially clear (and nor should it be - clarity is not the primary function of art), the song titles and lyrics, where present, poetically open, the music sometimes cavernous, sometimes abstract, then occasionally melodic, almost as if Spann is encouraging the act of attentive listening by up-ending the listeners expectations. It's certainly a record of two sides, the first a single 20 minute long work of compelling minimalism that draws upon drone, musique concrete and sound art, near Cageian in its use of space and (non)sound. On the flip, Spann changes course by breaking out those ideas explored on the A into smaller, discrete pieces, manipulating the voice in melodic fragments that elude obvious meaning but carry a clear emotional resonance - is this a way of understanding the psychology of care work? The use of the voice is not dissimilar to Robert Ashley's Private Parts, and the comparisons to Claire Rousay are as inevitable as they are flattering. Cerebral as it may be, it's never anything but inviting and wholly listenable, never more so than on the very unexpected Possession, a Julia Holter/Laurie Anderson like drone-based lullaby, a kind of avant-pop moment amidst a record of otherwise abstracted probing, explorative wonder. A kind of classic New York record for those who understand the downtown New York scene as a classic moment in music history. It certainly finds a place in the lineage.