Nils Rostad | Uses Instruments Because He Likes The Sounds
Tallerk Plater (LP)
Consisting of fourteen new pieces (seven per side) this is the third release on Tallerk Plater by studio musician Nils Rostad. Uses Instruments Because He Likes The Sounds is something quite different from his 2012 H1 release which was a far-out there clash between tribal and prog, or his other prior inventive fusions. I’m just catching up with this record which was released back in January and on here (ltd to 200 copies w/fold-out-cover + small art-inserts) he opens with Vil Verta a vibrant alternative space rock piece that floats like some of the most peculiar 70’s jazz (Cecilia Rospigliosi, flute) but somehow I also hear the influence of early Gary Numan, it’s an odd mix that thrills. There’s some playful guitar picking, odd flutters and static – quite a blender. Without sounding the least iota like Jason Forrest, it would seem that he and Rostad might have a lot in common in the way that they each drape a massive quilt of ideas together. It’s cut-up, layered, mixed, experimented with to the nth degree. Some of the diversions sound familiar, others question taste levels (on purpose), but it’s almost like flipping quickly through radio stations in a major city – electronics, folk, static, retro rock…the gamut.
On Eine Kleine Ein Minuten Rostad offers a guitar improvisation with knee slaps that sounds like something you might expect in a small Spanish village. Historiane showcases his spacey side with a sweet curling baritone sax and meandering electro-static. It’s a stroll through a fairgrounds perhaps somewhere in the Nordic regions. Out of the blue comes wriggling commercial vignettes and other strange synths. If you can dream it, you can be it, and this many colored tapestry proves it with a continued odd ball journey. You can’t help but smile at some of the most unexpected turns with inflections of multi-regional European traditions, broken into short quadrants. In one moment you might be in Pisa, the next aboard a starship, the next is distinctly Dutch. More twists and turns than Elvis’ hips.
On side two Rostad opens with The Introduction of Life, and we are sort of in middle eastern territory, and there’s a ghost lost in the machine as this clomps along with an animated trot eventually leading right into Eat the Meat including Restaurant Love. He’s creating a joyous flow between whistling lounge music (1966) that twists with a Bavarian flair, to a mysterious vibrating creature (Invention of Life/Condition Considered Hopeless) that has a lot in common with the types of brass folk songs you might hear aboard a steamboat (courtesy of trumpeter Espen Behrens). It’s a warm and friendly ‘rum-pum-pum-pum’ theme that seems sheepishly lost in its extroverted display of abandon. There’s much more that leads to the concluding Show Me The Way To Heaven Baby but this paced jazzy work with a faint cheshire grin uses a shaky old school organ, reverbed horns and the feel of a marching band playing their way out of an orchestra pit. It’s an eclectic melting pot of ideas that comes off like an estranged funny uncle. Rostad warms you up, and spits you out, leaving you feeling unprotected from all the good feels he’s conjured.