Boomkat Product Review:
Bill Nace and Graham Lambkin rustle up a lowkey liminal gem on Nace’s Open Mouth label traversing room and field recordings of zonked folk strums and waking life weirdness.
Unbuckled from any fixed style, ‘The Dishwashers’ occurs with a deceptively casual approach that belies the fact this is only the second time they’ve recorded together, following a first meeting in Kentucky during 2018. Recorded in London a year later, this set lives in between worlds, slipping across thresholds from drizzly open-window street noise to what sounds like a pet shop full of exotic birds and glass cages of reptiles, to more inexplicable aleatoric situations, with a quiet but sometime rapturous logic that gets under the skin, up the nose. It’s part collage, part everyday magick realism, part fly-on-wall documentation.
The A-side establishes a style defined by subtly jagged jump cuts and interruptions, where the magic emerges thru their transitions from each chunk of the recording. They take listeners from urban spaces awash with cars driving down wet roads and cackling birds in pollutant-caked trees, to grinding mechanical drones and dry strings that recall rusted playground swings creaking in the wind, and onto pieces of baroque folk sweetness.
The B-side follows into a really unsettling passage of naif, childlike ululation - remember just making strange noises with your mouth for the sheer sake of it, and seeing how long you could sustain it? - before shortwave radio crackles build into rabbly swells and, and barely-there sections pass out into a haze of shimmering cymbals and percussion that recalls Anne Tardos’ recordings of a defrosting fridge for New Wilderness Audiographics, whose label name coincidentally resonates with the strangely organic nature of Nace and Lambkin’s work here.