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self-titled – Gonervill

Innerhythmic 007

Musical amalgamation has reached such enormous points, as the attenuated
threads of decency are being superimposed by the almighty "S" with two
parallel lines fissuring the curved letter. An imperceptible fissure exists,
which when closely examined can be summarized, if Positivism can be
accepted, as the point in which most duets fall prey: Michael and Janet
Jackson, Jennifer Lopez and Ja Rule, moe. and DJ Logic, Kronos Quartet and
Terry Riley. The creations momentarily cross the chasm, drawing the listener
over fiendish waters into an assuaging frontier, as her/his pockets empty
upon the Wherehouse’s glass counter (anthropomorphism tacit).
However, dialectical discussions aside(as Hegel and Positivism do not
coalesce) when the two ambivalent realms come together, the results can be
awe-inspiring. Recent attempts, in the ever-trendy domain of
space-prog-hip-hop-trance, have revealed a monetarily sufficient realm for
the new jambands. While enticing, each band reeks of derivation: but the
dilettantes follow and subsequently get their "groove" on in a GHP addled
community, happily crossing the parallel lines, and enjoying the Studio 54
treatment. Faint screams, tacitly acknowledging cupidity, of "Ibiza" are
heard through out the night.
Luckily, bands like Gonervill (and the term "band" may indeed be
inaccurate), consisting of the now hip DJ-Drum-Bass mix, exist and rather
than creating work for a capitalist solidarity, they instead create work
with a healthy sense of sincerity. Most hip-hop/jazz/dub mixes, bands taking
George Clinton’s dofage "shake their ass and the mind will follow" sound as
shallow as Clinton’s platitude. Gonverill, in a perceived moment which
remains inaudible, yet present, seemingly creates a potent mixture of
idioms, and remains exploratory enough to garner consideration as the
paragon of the neophyte genre.
Even the grandest dolt can listen to Gonervill and cry "foul!" He or she
might harangue: An impossibility exists in the world of art: actions exist
in the moment, but each moment relates to the past. Exegesis can only exist
if this remains true, in a moment wherein constant relation, the high note
and the low note, light and dark (not absence) has been accepted as the
syntactic structure. To speak of new, implies a moment of chaos, pre-Edenic
moments, silence, absence; a land of no speech.
Thus, the question and theory must consider the potential for "new" within
"old." Nothing new exists, as Eco argues in "Foucault’s Pendulum," but
instead "permutations run rampant." The clichf "History repeats itself,"
could be amended to "history fucking repeats itself, only if you summarize
and are searching for some natural truth." Meaning tautology becomes
natural, but only for the individual searching for a simpleton’s truth. The
forest, for example changes, but the "forest" like "history" does not
(semantic, post-modern discourse tacit). "From afar, the story seems simple
and neat, but up close, ah, it becomes another problem" Hugo states in
Sartre’s "Dirty Hands" for a decent, lucid exemplar.
My disputatious, Derridianly diaphanous, discursive aside, while their
dauntless eponymous debut exemplifies the possibilities for music, Unseen
Worlds, exposes references to ’70s Miles Davis, Jimi Hendrix and DJ Cam;
yet always sounds original and ebullient. The music’s alacrity, beyond the
point of hyperbolic name references, exists in the ineffable ability to
allude and be ironic; referencing the past, and yet being ironic in an
attempt to create an autonomous aesthetic creation. Gonervill chooses to
walk the arduous line of artistic sophistication, rather than the innocuous
land of the parallel lines.
Other tracks, such as Voodoo, Cut Up Brain, Raver’s
Revenge and Panic Attack deserve equal superlatives and
circumlocution. Realizing the uselessness, I will stop here, but I emphasize
the music’s decency and ability: finally someone has truly synthesized jazz,
hip-hop and dub into a panache creation. Only Gonervill’s Bay Area brethren
Mushroom, can compete in a territory currently occupied by an endless
assortment of charlatans; and even an aspersion like "charlatan" becomes
unnecessary given Gonervill’s ilk.

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