by Aly Muilenburg (@purityolympics)
Unknowing has never sounded as free as it does on Accept When, the new record from Caroline Davis and Wendy Eisenberg. The duo confidently dis- and reassemble the paths of their music without worrying about the destination. Some of that comes from years of experience as performers and improvisers, with Davis on alto saxophone and Eisenberg on guitar. Both composers have filled their oeuvres with exploration. From project to project, the universe with which they play might appear completely different, whether due to the number of instruments or performers involved, the contextual headspace, or location. It could be a lonesome banjo; a suite of historiographical, sample-filled Chicago jazz; ruptured, abstract bedroom-folk; synthetic, heartfelt meditations on grief, tension, and America; or something entirely new. With their collaboration, they rely on each other and all they can bring to the table, rather than rely on individual experience and confidence.
Friendship is the gravity that maintains their orbit, building a worriless synchronicity. Before the music of Accept When solidified, they had to shape their connection into something invisible yet incredibly potent, allowing intimate variation to peel the next page’s corner. The bedrock had to be solid before any structure could be built. As much as the music bolts, zig-zags, simmers, and radiates, it does so in a way that attests to hard work and carefully forged cooperation. Sax dissolves and pierces into shrill squawks, frantic guitar catches the light gleaming from the horn. Seamlessly, one instrument will shift from foreground to background, allowing each voice to come and go as they need.
Davis’ sax gasps and leaps, sometimes carried away by the gust of breath carrying the melodies high and low. Notes blur, absorbing the frantic motion of their fingers and nearly-flapping tone holes. Eisenberg misdirects and intersects, exploring the same fractured hallways in different timbres, seeing how they bounce off each wall of mirrors. On a heel’s turn, often within the same piece, they reduce their intensity to a warm glow; you could hold your frozen palms up and watch them melt after braving a winter storm. Before another moment can pass, the duo are once again off running the 400-meter dash in opposite directions around the track, grinning at their unified dissonance.
Deerhoof’s Greg Saunier pops up on “Concrete,” helping evoke the disarray of urbanity, beautiful and oppressive, with buoyant energy and pummeling drums. The hum of motion and sirens perpetuates itself in the gaps between blasts of horn, distant tree-sightings, and interplay. “Slynx” pursues an agenda of pointillist noise, dot after dot or glob after glob. “Sequins” is reminiscent of its titular ornament only in sunlight’s glare reflected, caught in passing out of the corner of the eye. Accept When’s penultimate piece “All the Glory” is mostly unadorned guitar and vocals, occasionally punctured. They sing of solipsism and manifestation with wonder tempered by uncertainty.
The trustworthy chaos of the pair’s performances is matched by the serenity of their lyrics. “I’d like to tell me something / even though I know I won’t get through” are the first words heard. Reaching out for communication and kinship may be more important than the possible impact. Wishing without expectation embodies contradiction. On the title track, they sing about the ghosts sharing space with them in the room, perhaps at the exact moment of recording or even left behind in the present. “Ghosts are only figments of my imagination / except when they’re real” plays into mystery, of the mind and the haunts we frequent, with homophonic glee.
The future’s blank canvas, every aching possibility, is rendered without fear. Miraculous possibility wraps itself like a blanket over your shoulders; despite the horrors, each moment is precious. Everything is held together by the same membrane, from the quantum to personal to astronomic. Eisenberg and Davis share themselves generously, showing what a couple of years’ worth of play, practice, and partnership can make.