I’ve had a moderate amount of exposure to Japanese psychedelic sounds during my tenure as music obsessive. I’m hardly an authority on these sounds, but for many years, Japan seemed to have the edge over other extreme musicians. Single-mindedness and purity of vision reigned supreme — most alternative music fans might not be able to rattle off the complete discography of High Rise. But by God, if you’d been exposed to a blast from their sonic furnace, you’d not forget it in a hurry! Japanese power trios, rock-referencing transcendentalists, freak-drone fests, black-hole soul, extended hurdy gurdy workouts and ecstatic noise have been emanating from a coterie of rock-bred misanthropes and cosmic drifters over the last four decades.
Tetragrammaton follows in this grand Japanese tradition. Point of Convergence is a tense, yet life-affirming way to spend an hour of your time. There are a diverse variety of moods and directions explored throughout the six tracks. From the spooky percussive horror soundtrack of ‘Temporality of Action’, where a black icescape is ground into unforgiving scree, before a white-hot psychedelic guitar line moves things into a Ghost-like ritual reverie. Album opener ‘Disjecta Membra’s organic dronescapes wow and flutter like a Matthew Bower-led ensemble on bad drugs, as an exhilarating whirlwind emerges from a froth of furiously-played instruments. ‘Sol de Paula’ envelopes the listener in waves of crackling percussion and warm drones, until sickly keys and a volcanic hiss billows and flares like the Velvet Underground recording for the PSF label. ‘Portrait of Turab (Part 2)’ squeals with feedback sonorities not dissimilar to Nurse With Wound’s Soliloquy for Lilith, only for an electrical storm of short wave radio interference a la Tod Dockstader, and ritual drumming, takes over.
Tetragrammaton is a Greek word describing a four-letter word, specifically that of a Hebrew term referring to the God of Israel, which interpreted in English, is variously construed as ‘the Lord’ or ‘Jehovah’. With such esoteric and spiritual implications inherent in Tetragrammaton’s very name, it seems appropriate that on Point of Convergence, this three-piece make a joyful noise unto the creator, or one hell of a noise, depending upon your own personal pantheon. For devotees of Fushitsusha, Taj Mahal Travellers and Acid Mothers Temple – Point of Convergence merges ecstatic jazz, esoteric ritual and spooky sonorities into a coherent and exhilarating whole.
Oliver Laing
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