review copyright (c) 1997 by Syd Baumel
Like the primitive fright mask on the cover, this self-produced cassette album by Kudzu (aka Barry Shell) is drenched in the ambience of exotic places that lie well beyond the pale of modern civilization -- "evolutions" via a journey to the roots and depths, perhaps. But the tools of Kudzu's trade are mostly shiny and factory fresh: synthesizers, samplers, effects processors..."the evolutionary electronic technology of Korg, Kawai, Roland, and Yamaha," as Kudzu writes, with assists from "lots of primitive instruments that required blowing into or beating upon" (though their presence here seems limited).
Ironically, it's this cutting edge technology that sometimes seems to crimp the evolution of Kudzu's musical ideas. Too often, for example, long sustained notes -- such as during the album's many flutey and pipey solos -- have the stiff, "canned" quality of electronic "press and play" instruments; the expressiveness of a good acoustic performance is largely missing. And sometimes, where the mood would seem to call for a grand or powerful timbre, something too weak, flat, or anemic comes out of Kudzu's soundbox. In an album that otherwise teams with life -- with dynamic musical ideas, imaginative tone palettes, and some very happening percussion tracks -- these little dead zones and pulled punches detract from what might have been.
But not enough to spoil the journey. This Jungian travelogue through the heart of darkness (and light) is usually interesting, often exciting, and at times truly enchanting. There are some lesser tracks here ("Village of the Lingering Lost" forces you to linger too long in its plodding, dreary atmosphere), but there is at least one pearl: "Swimming with the Dolphins" is one of the most beguiling bits of sorcery I have ever heard. As much as I like the theme from "The X-Files," this soulful reverie beats it at its own game.