CD REVIEW: NEW RELEASE


ARTIST: DADA DANDY
TITLE: 
A FAVOLA DA MEDUSA FEATURING GEORGE HASLAM
LABEL:
SLAMCD 553

The Lisbon-based trio known as A Favola Da Medusa combines the talents of multi-instrumentalist Miguel Martins, guitarist Filipe Homem Fonseca and harpist Ana Dias. They’ve evidently got a regular gig at Bar Teatro A Barraca where all but one of these performances was recorded. The opening track is “Gunakadeit” and the first of three with guest saxophonist George Haslam. All the music is freely improvised by the players, and they start out with a disruptive rhapsody that’s almost a dialog for Haslam’s baritone and the prickly harp of Dias with occasional commentary by Martins on piano and Fonseca’s electronic effect pedals. Things get a little precarious on the brief “Charybdis,” a four-way plunge into distress and angst that threatens to explode at any moment. The lengthy “Beish Kione/Jörmungandr” starts out quietly with a loose call and response section featuring a ruminative Haslam and more electronic soundscapes from the guitarist. Slowly a dark and clunky rhythm emerges and we’re on an unexpected but cool journey. The extreme electronic approach of Homem, which treats his instrument as a generator of bold new sounds but is frequently unrecognizable as a guitar, is a key aspect of the group’s sound. Dias and her passionate harp come to the fore on the gentle “Algália Catéter,” but the repetitive high-pitched figure that emanates from guest Sónia Montenegro’s laptop might make you as nervous as it made me. The electronic mesh of “Requiem Por N. Sr. Da Agrela” with Martins’ spooky melodica, Fonseca’s chiming guitar and plenty of reverb is fun to get lost in. Bernardo Nascimento on bass and Rebecca Gradissimo on piano join the core trio for “A Terceira Sala,” an exercise at first in slowly drifting music that puts Dias’ (treated?) harp out front over muted electronics. The mood changes about 5 minutes in, at around the halfway mark, and all of a sudden the music turns abrasive and rude, though not without an undercurrent of humor. Finally, on the last track, it’s just the trio with no guests. “L’Amant Brulée” is almost four minutes of murky electronic washes, with the occasional tinkle from Ana Dias’ harp or a throb from Miguel Martins, this time on bass. Dada Dandy packs plenty of murk and darkness into three-quarters of an hour, and it makes for a provocative and unusual excursion into free improvisation.

                                                                                                                                                    

Stuart Kremsky
CD review from Volume 41, No. 2, 2015 
www.cadencemagazine.com