Ulrich Krieger ~ Aphotic II – Abyssal

If one were to imagine a musical approximation of the ocean’s aphotic depths – the zones beyond the reach of sunlight and photosynthesis, where fish are luminescent – the first instruments that come to mind might not be saxophone, accordion, or cello.

Ulrich Krieger, saxophonist, composer, and intrepid transcriber of Lou Reed’s endlessly divisive Metal Machine Music for the Zeitkratzer Orchestra, chose those very instruments for his speculative dive of an album, Aphotic II – Abyssal, released on Lawrence English’s Room40 label. Joined by Ben Richter on the accordion and Derek Stein on the cello, Krieger’s results are satisfyingly rich and strange.

The album’s three 20-minute tracks are all versions of the same piece, divided into “acoustic,” “delay,” and “electronic” approaches. Krieger’s exploration of these divergent methods draws out and amplifies intriguing distinctions, while creating a totality that beguiles and fascinates.

“Abyssal (acoustic),” finds Krieger producing long, probing, foghorn-like tones on his tenor sax that hover and stretch and braid before vaporizing in decay, along with an array of corrugated gusts and piercing whistles from his mouthpiece. In and around these notes, Derek Stein draws long, portentous moans from his cello when he’s not kicking up textured chunks of sound, while Ben Richter’s accordion breathes creepy, buttressing fills. The mood is crepuscular, menacing, suggesting some unseen lifeform lurking and watching, just beyond cognizance. The track heaves and pulses with doom.

“Abyssal (delay)” works the same material, but a demonic current runs through this version, growing ever more distorting as it builds. While the acoustic version leads into plunging, inky silences, “delay” comes to those same caesurae and infiltrates them with a subliminal vibe that threatens to erupt into squalls of blistering feedback. A palpable pressure lies in this alternate, a charged atmosphere that transforms familiar turf into new territory.

The final track, “Abyssal (electronic),” presents another permutation, with all instrumentation taking on a compressed, almost flattened quality. Yet the effect is anything but deadening. The reedy timbres and textures feel shorn, the tones smoother. The feedback that was threatening to make an appearance in the second track finally flares out, while the first part’s textured chunks of cello now sound like wheezing, snuffling, asthmatic grunts. Popping, shorting wires pepper the landscape and the accordion takes on the metallic sheen of a church organ. When the track pulls together, it creaks and groans like a gigantic, rusting steamer, sunken and crumbling on the ocean floor, rocked by waves.

Disarming, even at times unexpectedly thrilling, Aphotic II – Abyssal slots convincingly between the documentary-like recordings of Jana Winderen and the gothic, ghost-ship-horror-film-soundtrack musings of Nurse With Wound’s Salt Marie Celeste: uncommon, uncanny territory. (Damian Van Denburgh)