12″ Lathe Edition of 24. Numbered. Loose-leaf cover / back art printed at LOOKYHERE.
OUT OF PRINT
On the evening of Friday Nov. 6, 2020, the British guitarist, Jon Collin, played this bracingly original set of guitar music.
Unlike the three LPs of his we have released (Water & Rock Music Vol. 1 FTR399, Vol. 2 FTR418, and Vol. 3-4 FTR534), this session was not done in the outdoors. Rather, it happened in the basement of a friend’s place in Stockholm, amidst a tableau filled with water pipes, electrical doodads, and lots of the other kinds of things with which basements are rife.
It’s hard to know whether his surroundings defined the parameters of his music, but Jon’s playing in this setting feels especially off-kilter and thoroughly subterranean. Eschewing the longer tones he’s been exploring recently, Collin’s approach was a wonderfully bizarre marriage of rhythmic clangor and drones that seemed to give the air around him a feverish kinetic glow. Some parts reminded me of the downstroke regularity of Thurston Moore’s meter-based improvisations, but it all happened inside of a wobbling time bubble unlike anything else I’ve ever heard.
The four short pieces on side one are all unbalanced killers, but the side-long fifth one is more relaxed and flowing, albeit with an erratic center of gravity and a harsh metallic core. This last one is closer to what Jon has been doing lately, but it gained a sharp edge from what felt like proximity to an anxiety-generator. Perhaps that was one of the mystery objects in the basement? Can’t really say for sure, but it’s a possibility.
Of course, anyone who thinks they know exactly what they’re going to get when Mr. Collin picks up his axe is going to be in for a surprise. All you can really know is that it’s gonna sound amazing. And this sure does. Thanks, chap!
–Byron Coley, 2022