About This Item
Conceived at the heel of Italy's boot-shaped peninsula in Apulia, Patrick Belaga's Blutt makes music for the unruly imagination. The title is an old German word for 'naked', 'bare', but it can also mean 'blood' when spelt blut. Take away another letter and it makes 'butt'. None of these definitions and adaptations were what prompted the classically-trained composer and cellist to name his second album with a word simulating the sound of a punctured artery. That came later. Blutt's nine woozy compositions are inspired by a contemplative road trip with a friend, and the mysterious muffled music heard from an unidentified source. It was a combination of jazz and classical music that haunted Belaga's wanderings through the Byzantine town Gallipoli, and soon infected his dreams of long-gone civilizations. This record is it's outcome, where organic instrumentals and electronic production merge into a sound that's both contemporary and ancient. Samples of mewing incantations and tape hiss sway atop the waltzing thud of piano chords on InchSighInch. Composite layers of Belaga's cello play in downcast harmony on InchRustInch. There's a wistful sense for the romantic, in the eerie rhythm of a piece like InchMomentumInch. The quarter tones of an Eastern European and Middle Eastern folk scale probe a profound melancholy via Kai Knight's violin. It's notes are haunted by a field recording of running water on InchUnsoftInch, echoes of panpipes and a Jew's harp on opener InchLiltInch. As a consummate composer and performer known for his work with artists Wu Tsang, boychild, Josh Johnson and Asma Maroof, Belaga's Blutt is itself marked by flawless collaborations. Vocalist and instrumentalist Jazmin Romero sings and composes the surreal melodies of InchGrey EyeInch. Multidisciplinary dance artist and producer Riley Watts contributes to the muted, motorik movement of InchThe Tunnel is
