Music / Jazz
Review: Let Spin/Iceman Furniss, Old England
Originally announced as a double bill at the Grain Barge this relocated gig had grown to a four band minifest by the time it arrived at the Old England. Sadly my timing meant I couldn’t arrive in time for Cloudshoes’ opening set and just caught the second half of Yama Warashi (though I’d reviewed them just five days ago and happily their music had lost none of its charming oriental pop subversion in that time).
I was, however, pleased to finally catch up with Iceman Furniss, a name that’s popped up with increasing regularity this year, and his improvising quartet. I was especially pleased because they were so good – a confident, rolling continuum of electric jazz grooves on guitar, synth and bass led by fluid drumming and topped (iced?) by Harry Furniss’ Miles-influenced cornet. The music’s shape often emerged through pounding drum and bass grooves asserting themselves to give the Iceman plenty to kick back against. But any overtones of punk thrash were gradually dispelled into more open structures with exploratory synth lines replacing assertive guitar chords. It was all satisfyingly coherent, however, even in its freest moments and looks set to be a regular favourite in these parts.
Superficially Let Spin looked a similar project – a post-jazz four-piece with guitar, bass and drums fronted by sax – but for all that there’s an improvisatory approach in Let Spin’s music it is actually highly structured and composed almost to the point of proggery. This allowed them to develop a range of ideas while launching flashpoints of the individual virtuosity that showed why they’ve made such an impact across the UK scene. Elements of rhythmic exploration gave drummer Finlay Panter the opportunity to pound out deceptively straightforward beats yet weave unexpected patterns of disorder through them, while Ruth Goller’s solid bass grooves locked and unlocked the pieces, shifting the musical texture and defining the soundscape. Guitarist Moss Freed was remarkable, evoking an almost infinite range of style and voice from his instrument, adding Beefheartian discords, wavering harp like cascades, electronic swoops and pure rock grunge yet at any time able to lock into an intricate unison melody with Chris Williams’ tireless alto sax.
The compositions – largely unannounced – managed to combine unexpected shifts with some bigger coherence, so what could have seemed merely tricksy in less assured hands actually made sense and did not distract from the four musicians’ considerable individual skills. As with all the best jazz outfits there was also a strong sense of four people who really enjoyed playing together and, inevitably, a packed Old England clearly enjoyed sharing their fun.
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