![cover image](/brain/images/greg_davis-mutually_arising.jpg)
Davis’s drone-focused album from 2004, Somnia, marked a dramatic stylistic departure from his earlier work, but at the time I thought it was merely a fluke. I was mistaken: it appears as though Greg has finally abandoned both songcraft and his acoustic guitar altogether. Instead, the surprisingly non-organic Mutually Arising consists of two very long and very minimal drone pieces created using two vintage analog synthesizers processed through pedals and a computer (a Korg Mono/Poly and a Crumar Stratus, if you are interested in such things). While I am not hostile towards vintage or analog gear in general, I am decidedly not a fan of relying on analog synthesizers as the sole sound source for an entire album: the sustained perfect tones are so devoid of humanity and warmth that it is nearly impossible for me to connect at anything other than an intellectual level. That said, Mutually Arising is a pretty successful album on the aforementioned purely intellectual level and has already earned comparisons to folks like La Monte Young and Charlemagne Palestine. Many people that are not me will like this a lot.
The first piece, "Cosmic Mudra," fades in with a single low sustained tone and does not make much of a conspicuous departure from that over the course of its 28 minute running time: no rhythm, no melody, and no outside textural elements. Nevertheless, there is a great deal of subtle phase-shifting and microtonal activity occurring as it glacially snowballs in thickness and intensity. Around the 20-minute mark, some rather dissonant and quavering higher pitches begin creeping into the mix, resulting in a slow-motion crescendo of complex harmonies and uneasy oscillations. Gradually, all of the lower tones ebb into silence, leaving only a wake of twinkling trebly dissonance which itself slowly grows quieter and less jarring before finally disappearing entirely. I didn’t particularly enjoy “Mudra” all that much—a “mudra” is a symbolic or ritual gesture, incidentally—but Davis’s restraint and almost imperceptible improvisations were both admittedly worthy of respect.
Thankfully, the aptly-titled “Hall Of Pure Bliss” is a bit more conventionally compelling: while built around a single droning chord, it is enhanced by a psychedelic, phase-shifting shimmer that snakes and pans all around it. There is also an oddly soothing semi-rhythmic pulse that rumbles beneath it all. While Greg’s subtle manipulations do not vary wildly from those in “Cosmic Mudra,” the lush, undulating bed beneath his microtonal experimentation results in a far warmer and more enjoyable experience. Gradually, the warped shimmer fades out and leaves only a slowly waning and subtly oscillationing drone that glistens with quivering overtones; an inverse trajectory to "Mudra". The overall effect is very hypnotic and lulling. I could have easily drifted along for another 20 minutes or so if Davis had scrapped “Mudra” and doubled “Bliss,” but he didn't.
Mutually Arising is not a bad album by any means and I am probably being more negative than it deserves, but I sincerely wish that it was not a Greg Davis album. I understand that Davis is a serious electronic composer now and that he is deliberately stripping all traces of artifice from his work to achieve purity and simplicity, but the charm and fragile beauty that made his earlier albums like Curling Pond Woods so memorable are nowhere to be found. There are literally dozens of other people that could have made this album. I hate being the sort of alienated former fan that says things like “yeah, but his early stuff was way better,” but I have been left no other choice. Please start playing guitar again.
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