|Calum Gourlay - Double Bass|
The room had the warmest of glows, deep filled sofas matched the mince pies with equal invitation. It was impossible not to play a game of who's who with the amassed audience. In the corner sat Alex Bonney who's job was to record this solo voyage. It will be fascinating task to see if he can replicate the warmth of atmosphere in the room. It was so quiet and still that I could hear every breath that my sofa neighbour exhaled.
The sense of the unexpected made the first tune a tense affair, everyone was scared to make a sound. Alone on bass Calum Gourlay dipped into the recording like as a rower hitting a comfortable stroke. The stealthy joy of Ornette Coleman's Ramblin' made you think he was afloat in a bathtub rather than a life raft. The second tune, Chairman Mao, had a pulsing rub to it like Gourlay was occupied with a tasty stick of chewing gum. Eventually he spat it out and once squashed under foot it resembled in colour and shape one of those principalities you find in school geography atlases.
The second half of the recording was equally evocative. Excuse my lack of titles, the eyes were on sketchbook page and the mind had dialled to dream. The sixth tune moulded modernity and the old-fashioned by use of the bow on strings. Calum Gourlay gave the tune such depth it sounded like two instruments were playing. Exotic radiowaves played as though they erupted from Francis Bacon's rumbling tummy, a kind of beautiful indigestion. The seventh tune was folky with sweet narratives that talked of youthful adventures and smoky stories. The first wave of nostalgia crept upon us with the memories of Polaroids and miniature test strips.
|Dark warmth of|