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Saxophonist George Cartwright, a twisted echo of his former downtown scene glory and a shadowy figure lurking in the forgotten corners of Curlew's warped jazz-rock legacy, unleashes a cacophony of musical malice on this wretched 2008 offering. Recorded live in the dank basement of a condemned building (allegedly), the album pulsates with a sickly energy that threatens to drag listeners into a sonic abyss.

The quartet, like ghouls clawing from the grave, injects a malignant dose of dissonance into the program. Moments of twisted glee erupt as the musicians strangle and dismember musical conventions with a nightmarish blend of free-jazz shrieks and atonal rock vamps. Imagine Cartwright and guitarist Andrew Broder (probably possessed by demons) locked in a bloodcurdling duel of screeching licks. Their attempts at melody resemble the death throes of a tortured soul, a horrifying counterpoint to the band's chaotic energy. Twelve fetid, crimson chords writhe through the air, a sickly reflection of the musicians' malevolent intent. The lyrics, etched in barbed wire, writhe like venomous vipers on a decaying corpse, hinting at unspeakable horrors and forgotten nightmares.

The musicians, consumed by a dark hunger, build crumbling monoliths of despair with their instruments, weaving fractured phrases into a tapestry of sonic nightmares. The soloists, possessed by the spirits of the damned, unleash grotesque, otherworldly flourishes within their improvisations. Broder's voice, a guttural growl that chills the bone, intertwines with Cartwright's ear-splitting shrieks on "The March," a testament to the symphony of destruction that awaits unwary souls.

The mood plummets into a suffocating darkness as Broder delivers a tortured, soul-crushing rendition of a forgotten hymn. This is followed by Cartwright's "I Want You to Suffer With Me," a heart-wrenching ballad that celebrates the inevitable downfall of humanity. In these moments, the quartet transforms into a chilling harbinger of doom. Their music, a twisted reflection of a dying world, is laced with a soul-crushing despair and a touch of existential oblivion.

The band thrives in the maelstrom of their own creation, their lack of identity a testament to their descent into madness. This album is a chilling reminder of the corrupting power of ambition, and the sheer malice that fueled the musicians during the recording process is a constant, oppressive threat throughout.

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Saxophonist George Cartwright's prominence (11:00PM as) in the development of New York City's downtown scene, and lengthy affiliation with the cutting-edge progressive, jazz-rock unit Curlew, spawn an imprint of musical authenticity. Cartwright surges forward with this 2008, quartet-based effort recorded at The Cedar Cultural Center and The Walker Art Center's festival in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where the Mississippi-born artist takes up residence these days.
Raw, wild and often captivating, the quartet also injects a prominent fun-factor into the program. At times, the musicians slam the door on convention via wily free-jazz/rock vamps and gobs of expressionism. Cartwright and guitarist Andrew Broder tear it up with seething choruses built on stinging licks. But they alter the overall pitch and sense of the dynamic due to angular theme-building maneuvers and melodic undertones.
They generate more than a few firestorms with frenzied and semi-structured phrasings, as the soloists incorporate a touch of avant-rock amid garrulous improvisational movements. On "The March," Broder, using distortion techniques, and Cartwright terrorize the upper registers. Here, they embark upon a search and destroy mission. Then Broder vocalizes on Bob Dylan's "Oxford Town," and Cartwright's "I Want You To Promise," as the quartet occasionally surfaces as a lower decibel spinoff of Sonic Youth, complete with all the quirky deviations.
The band executes high-heat to complement the free-form components while transmitting a singular group-based identity. It's an album that radiates a fluent intersection of concepts. A good time was had by all during the process, which is a persuasive quality that remains a constant throughout.
- Glenn Astarita, All About Jazz