- In many ways this was a typical Dean Blunt show. No one knew what to expect going in, and the audience left feeling surprised and confused; some people seemed happy, others definitely didn't. The show itself, though, was atypical. Billed as "untitled unmastered unheard unfinished unrehearsed," the stage at the recently renovated Jazz Café was filled with musicians, although due to the almost total darkness, it was difficult to say how many there were exactly. The event's title is a strong indication of how the group sounded. This was an hour of raw, meandering music that sometimes coalesced and sometimes didn't.
Blunt set the tone by solemnly strumming on a guitar. He then took up a position behind a keyboard, which is where he remained for most of the show. The string sounds he produced, heavily reminiscent of those on his 2013 album The Redeemer, sat at the core of the session—as was a single repeated vocal refrain, which, despite hearing it tens of times, I still couldn't quite make out ("Look at the ice on my wrist, time froze"?).
There was a sombre quality to almost all of the musicians' expressions, which was best embodied by the Radiohead and Mica Levi collaborator Oliver Coates on cello—the most arresting bits tended to involve Coates, Blunt and the saxophonist. The drummer was a restrained presence throughout much of the night, but there were periodic swells as he or she built to a frenzied crescendo. Improv, as far as my admittedly surface-level understanding of it goes, seems to be a little like surfing, the musicians each testing the water and trying to catch a wave. In this respect, the group combined satisfyingly at times, putting the room in a sort of murky trance, but it was clear from the chatting and fidgeting that, by the halfway point, the audience's attention was waning.
This wasn't the show to disabuse Blunt of the idea that UK audiences are spoilt. "I'm just done with playing in the UK," he said during a recent conversation with GAIKA in Crack Magazine. "It's not like a big deal or anything, I just told my agent I'm not playing here anymore. There's a certain arrogance that comes with accessibility to our culture." Anyone who regularly attends gigs and club nights in London will understand what he's getting at, but if what he says is true, it would be an incredible shame. At the end of 2016, Blunt stands as one of the UK's most visionary artists. Even if, like on this night, the things he does don't always completely hit the spot, his levels of ambition and creativity are without question.
Photo credit /
Jake Davis