Percussion — Music

Of all the genres which fall under the dubious umbrella of “world music”, gamelan is perhaps the most popular. Gamelan itself is a style too big for one word, ranging from an ecstatic, traditional Javanese playing to a more furious contemporary Balinese. With Nist Nah, Will Guthrie tries his (presumably enormous) hand at Javanese gamelan, largely leaving the ordered chaos of his kit-based releases behind.

It’s an obvious match—Guthrie and gamelan carry convergent aims. There’s a hypnotic element to both; repetition which, koan-like, induces a break; a simultaneous order and disorder; but, above all, an overwhelming physicality. In listening, you can imagine every metallophone being hammered. While Nist Nah wears this effort on its sleeve, Guthrie does not do so to self-aggrandise or peacock. He instead shares a journey of discovery with the listener, the presence of which does not disrupt or diminish the work on the album.

And while none of this is hugely unfamiliar ground for the drummer—the ambient, droning, bell-packed atmosphere of Javanese gamelan is all through his 2012 track “Stones”—here, it is made much more prominent. The scattered thunder of Guthrie’s regular playing takes a back seat and is relegated, for the most part, to interludes like the frictional “Lit 1+2”. And with greater prominence comes greater extremity. “Elders” is such a muted track it could be one of the controlled soundscapes of Jacob Kirkegaard’s Four Rooms.

Guthrie closes Nist Nah with a gamelan learning exercise “Kebogiro Glendeng”, which feels effortlessly pulled off. It’s the polar opposite of Guthrie’s previous work, though. There is no sense whatsoever of the usual clattering improv—instead, a single phrase is repeated for its trance-inducing duration. Rather than build and crescendo, the piece abstracts itself, diminishing into a great reverberant wash that then gently fades. That it comes off so naturally is testament to Guthrie’s skill as a musician.

Nist Nah is available for purchase and streaming here.

Words by Andrew O’Keefe

Great improvisers always have one foot dangling over the cliff's edge. Their work seems ready to crumble under itself; to tangle, snag or melt like a cassette tape. Will Guthrie is no exception to this rule. The Australian percussionist works in many spaces, and with a wide roster of collaborators. But the work is invariably electrifying and dangerous.

Some Nasty sees Guthrie performing alongside Indonesian gamelan and gong players, and delving into a new world of electronic backing tracks and esoteric field recording. As ever, the atmosphere is heavy. Dark clouds are punctuated by clattering raindrops of noise. But some surprises, like a spirited homage to My Chemical Romance's 'Black Parade', liven proceedings. And the extreme energy of Some Nasty's noisier passages will bring out anyone's stank face.

One movement on Side B slips into an irresistible groove. It's a conventional sort of playing rarely heard from Guthrie, but all the more successful for it. Bordered on both sides by erratic and challenging traditional percussion, it's a stark and welcome contrast.

This release as a whole benefits from its diversity. Phrases and moods appear like cats eyes, rushing in in a bright and surprising surge. It's as difficult to pin down as one of Guthrie's cacophonous crescendos. Perhaps he's the only one who can truly keep track of it all.

Will Guthrie’s Some Nasty is available for stream and purchase here. Tetema, a fantastic collaborative project with Mike Patton and Anthony Pateras, can be found here.

Words by Andrew O’Keefe