Halfway through David Grubbs’ epic poem The Voice in the Headphones, a micromanaging director Skypes in for a “pep talk,” interrupting the book’s film-scoring protagonist in the middle of a studio session. “I’m going to start calling you the Squanderer so that everyone thinks you have an immense talent,” the director tells the composer. “You’ll thank me for this. If you’re stuck in the Studio Bs of the world it’s not because at one time you weren’t regarded as a serious talent, but because you squandered it.”
The moniker is an odd fit for the renowned, prolific players in Grubbs’ new trio with fellow guitarist-composer Wendy Eisenberg and bassist, producer, and Shimmy-Disc label head Kramer. But their debut album, If a Body Meet a Body, sprouted from a spontaneous squandering session one afternoon in a Studio B somewhere in New York. Recording live, they explored for exploration’s sake, with no stated goal or preconceived theme beyond observing instantaneous collisions of sound and space. And in these “squandered” hours, they tunneled into a collective essence greater than the sum of their considerable parts.
Each of If a Body Meet a Body’s seven “themes” is named for a particular phenomenon, demographic, or setting—airplane vapor trails, soft-spoken cowpokes, at-home viewers, quiet cars. The album starts and ends with the fellow-travelers’ ballad “Theme for Squanderers” and its reprise, both of which operate on uneven ground. Kramer opens these tracks with a low bass note and a higher, watery drone that alternate irregularly as the song’s tonal centers, often disappearing entirely, leaving Grubbs and Eisenberg to fill the negative space in their wakes. In some instances, the two guitarists remain in this suspended state; in others, they touch down with a satisfying two-chord riff that releases the tension for a moment.
This group dynamic prevails throughout, even when the musical dynamics change. On the noisy “Theme for Contrails,” Eisenberg is given room to air out their technical chops. But even in their shreddiest moments, they seem to be listening deeply to Grubbs’ and Kramer’s’ parts. On the much quieter “Theme for Silent Cowboys,” Eisenberg’s technical precision plays off of the wide-open spaces Grubbs loves to create, but it never feels like anyone’s taking a solo.
