When the stage is soaked with gasoline, a simple spark of sound from one of them will be needed to blow everything up in the air. That fleeting moment, which barely lasts as long as it takes a note to emerge from the sax, a double bass string to start to vibrate, or to hit a drum head, will now carry on for an hour on the clock. Make no mistake, everything that seems to happen during that time, in fact, is contained in a very single instant. It is a big bang of musical energy expanding but, initially it is only that: an explosion, a fleeting shining, an atom that contains all the possibilities.
The expansive wave is full of expressive hues, primitive evocations, and possible horizons condensed in an absolute present, in which Albert Cirera, Olie Brice, and Nicolas Field enjoy themselves. Three synchronized planets for cosmic wonder and happiness to music lovers, and unexpectedly, we feel sucked towards the interior of its circular hole of energy: extreme timbres, dense textures, and frenetic pulse. Acrylic Rib subdues us and demands from us the very same dedication and intensity they display on the stage. And it’s only then, surrendered to that pleasure that’s hard to rationalize when the perfect beauty can be reached with just our hearing.
As far as November by The Acrylic Rib
