Rhyton specialize in blending the sonic traditions and instrumentation of Greece and the Middle East with rock trio firepower of an oft improvisational nature. That might read as a recipe for self-indulgence, but the results, while certainly psychedelic in effect, also wield the discipline of top-notch jazzmen. Kykeon, their third LP and second for the Thrill Jockey label, continues their explorations to great reward; it’s a record that plays as strong as its cover is beautiful.
Rhyton consists of Dave Shuford, aka the leader of D. Charles Speer & the Helix and a former participant in the activities of the No-Neck Blues Band, Rob Smith of the Bronx band Pigeons, and Jimy SeiTang, a gentleman also associated with the No Neck scene but primarily known for the outfit Psychic Ills and his electronic solo project Stygian Stride.
The New York City-based No-Neck Blues Band, or NNCK for short, was part of a thriving underground of outsider rock business that came to a head in the midst of last decade. Some of the contributors to this scenario were able to engage, if not the mainstream, then at least larger audiences via Freak Folk and the New Weird, but the deep-psych/improv-rock/free folk of NNCK proved resistant (though not really by intention) to crossing over.
Of course, this isn’t a tidy assumption, since Wolf Eyes managed two discs of noise brutality on Sub Pop during the same era, but it does feel largely accurate. And so it’s doubly interesting how Rhyton’s latest is so downright easy on the ears. It does bear mentioning however that Shuford’s not exactly a novice to rock gestures of possibly wide(r) appeal.
Yes, there’s his helming of those jamming country-rockers the Helix to consider, but alongside NNCK cohort Keith Connelly Shuford was bassist in The Suntanama, a sorta neo-Southern Rock act that put out a pair of LPs for Drag City, the first one eponymous and its follow-up titled Another, shortly after the turn of the millennium.
For that matter, Rhyton’s previous efforts (both from 2012), a self-titled debut for Thrill Jockey and a joint release of Three Lobed Recordings and Divide By Zero Records, aren’t in any way difficult listens, though The Emerald Tablet does exude some major amp grease, and neither album is quite as thoughtfully designed for widespread appreciation as is Kykeon. And all without curtailing what’s made them so vibrant.
Along with the usual electric guitar, Shuford utilizes a variety of instruments on Kykeon including the mandolin, the doumbek of Egypt, the baglamas and the mandolin-like trichordo zebrawood bouzouki of Greece, and the electro-saz of Turkey. Smith takes up the drum spot (replacing Spencer Herbst), and SeiTang plays the bass and organ.
Opener “Siren in Byblos” throws a sweet curveball, beginning like a malfunctioning video game console tangling with a field-recording of abstract electric guitar haze captured at an art instillation hosted in a Soho loft sometime in the twilight of last century, though it briefly and brilliantly coalesces into an approximation of a mind-bending traffic jam of Middle Eastern intensity before leveling off and smoothing out into a highly accessible trio groove propelled by SeiTang’s energetic yet unperturbed bass and Smith’s indefatigable rhythmic patterns. Shuford gives his strings a thorough bending throughout.
The pace abruptly winds down as cascades of plucked mandolin fill the air, followed by a momentary silence that leads us into “Topkapi.” Initially radiating vibes of late-‘60s Cali psych, the bulk of its duration provides a slower yet no less approachably expansive journey into non-egocentric virtuosity that’s both rare and welcome. Instead of showoff chops-hackery, the point of the ensemble’s adeptness is intended to promote/enhance a heightened state of consciousness.
In a nutshell, the true root of Eastern-tinged psychedelia. Though unlike some prior cultural borrowings in the style, there’s nary a trace of dicey opportunism or exploitation as Rhyton simultaneously avoid slipping into an overly reverent sensibility. Make no mistake; this is Fusion. As Thrill Jockey’s promo material explains, the meaning of kykeon is “to stir, to mix,” and happily, this is fusion of a standard very likely to please fans of Joe Harriott, Don Cherry, Miles, Herbie Hancock, Paul Butterfield, Fela, and even Erkin Koray.
“Gneiss” also opens with guitar lines tangibly psych; Thrill Jockey’s notes additionally enlighten us that kykeon was the name of a drink formulated by the ancients and possessive of “psychoactive properties,” a phrase roughly translating to “shit that will fuck you up right quick.” The selection imbues a lean, lively and rockish (though far from rockist) framework with a succession of outward-bound yet consistently agreeable elements, particularly when the focus shifts into ample but relaxed fingerpicking.
And the superbly infectious “Pannychis” is more than a little Krautrock-ish, (though maybe it’s just the vocoder-ish vocal effect that spurs a sprightly Turkish “Yoo Doo Right” to the front of my noggin). The tempo eventually slows, this time spotlighting SeiTang’s organ (which happens to bring Steve Winwood to mind), but craftily the speed picks back up and the gush of Rhyton’s one-mindedness is once again at the fore.
“Pannychis” segues directly into “California Black Box Vapors,” a nice and neat hunk of spacey punkish distorto-psych, perhaps a tad similar to a singer-less incarnation of first album Soft Machine that sprouted up not in the UK but out on the rim of the Mojave. Imagine them practicing a torrid instrumental version of “We did it Again” beside an oasis complete with a refreshment stand selling bootlegged kykeon, while off in the distance a plane crashes.
Kykeon’s closer and longest track “Striped Sun” begins in a loose, exploratory mode as the threesome gradually coheres and ratchets up momentum led by Shuford’s exceptional guitar. And it might make sense to compare the intermingled energy to the thrust of ‘60s San Francisco, but the reality is the Bay Area of the period rarely sounded this good, or while we’re on the subject, this heavy; the combined power attained around seven minutes into “Striped Sun” establishes the LP as ending on an especially high note.
Nearly all modern music is the result of some form of hybridization, but when the term fusion gets used in a contempo context, it often refers to combinations that persist in sticking out from within the current landscape. The success of these endeavors relates to the level of sensitivity employed and the ability to withstand the temptation of potentially stultifying commerciality (actions that almost killed Fusion Jazz don’tcha know).
With Kykeon, Rhyton prove masters of the fusion impulse and the art of the instrumental trio, striking a flawless balance between the traditional and the progressive.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
