Testing the Ground – Milarepa’s Cave (reviewed by Dave Franklin)

It makes perfect sense that “Testing the Ground” is the soundtrack to a forthcoming film. Not just because of the track’s length, nearly an hour, but because, like When Mountains Speak, Steven Clarkson‘s previous musical vehicle, the music sits in a very unique niche.

To say that his music is experimental or avant-garde is an understatement, and although often meditative in its overall vibe, it is also the antithesis of the sort of new age, head shop, camper van, knit-your-own-yoghurt, whale-song music that such places push, so its more aggressive moments may not always work for everyone. It generally has no lyrics, and it would take a brave soul to dance to it. Film soundtrack seems to be the perfect place for such singular music to thrive.

And so we set off in the company of his new trio to…well, who knows, second-guessing will not work here, the blend of free-forming, improvisation and outsiderness is oblivious to listener expectation, even if you are familiar with his previous work.

We start in the familiar squalling density of guitars, as alien sonic voices chirp and cheep across this savage soundscape, before any semblance of groove kicks in, eventually doing so thanks to the tabla beat. As is often the way with Milarepa’s Cave, that is all there is to tether the music to the ground, the only thing that keeps everything else from splintering, sending angular saxophone, rabid guitars, and dark, depth-charge bass melodics flying off into space. But that sense of living on the edge, not just for the listener, but for the music-makers and soundscapers at work too, I suspect, is where the fun, perhaps even humour, lies.

A bit like Mozart‘s “A Musical Joke” (which better translates as “Some Musical Fun,” if my German serves me correctly), the humour is found in the music’s desire to not only not follow convention but deliberately play things that technically don’t work together. Although it is fair to say that Milarepa’s Cave takes this to an extreme that our Austrian wunderkind would never have dared to.

By the halfway point, we are into some dense, dark… and even experimental darkwave places; ten minutes further on, there is a more conventional classical string sound at work, or perhaps the anagram of one, and as it heads home, something of a doomish horror phase is experienced, saw-edged and scary.

As always, this is music that evolves, often unexpectedly. If there is a constant, it is the barrage of sonic motifs that drift along the top, sounds and sequences that are often only heard once, again underlining that this is music made in the moment. This is an experience that could never be recaptured, not faithfully, at least. Sure, the band can play something similar, but it would never be exactly like this ever again.

More artists should be this committed. Why replicate and repeat what has gone before, even your own sound, when there is a whole universe to explore? Okay, I get that it might not be everyone’s thing, but you can’t deny that it isn’t the bravest and most adventurous of music.

Most music entertains. Some informs. But more should explore.