Works For Upright Bass and Amplifier Vol. 2

In Indian musical theory it is said that there are two kinds of sound, one a vibration of ether, the other a vibration of air. The vibration of ether, which cannot be perceived in the physical sense, is considered the principle of all manifestation, the basis of all substance. It corresponds to what neo-Pythagoreans called “music of the spheres”. It forms permanent numerical patterns which are the basis of the world’s existence. The kind of vibration is not caused by a physical shock as are audible sounds. It is therefore called anāhata, “unstruck”. The other kind of sound is an impermanent vibration of air, an image of the ether vibration. It is audible and always produced by a shock. It is therefore called āhata or “struck”. (Alain Daniélou, 1980) I’d never thought about Luke Stewart in such terms until recently, but I think that scholar Alain Daniélou’s words are a great place to start. When asking our bassist-at-large about how he wanted to approach talking about this new record, he gave a little background, but ultimately wanted the music to speak for itself… and speak it does.  Works for Upright Bass and Amplifier Volume Two takes the foundation laid down by Volume One and builds a large flame out of it. A sort of regeneration. This beauty is not for the weak listener, afraid of radical change. Nor is it for a casual passerby. Over an hour, this new opus is not only a form of expression regarding where Luke has been but his willingness to examine the nature around him, specifically the relationship between electricity and wood.  Or, as I like to think of it, a few lovely compositions about a cleansing forest fire.  After Volume One, Luke advanced his techniques and recording processes through his work with several artists. Traveling and watching an array of disciplines being harnessed before his eyes led him to redeveloping his approach to training his bull fiddle to play nicely in the sandbox with a few power sources. Luke says of forming his concept that “it is the main influence for the process by which the sound is generated on this setup, but using the bass as well as the crucial element of movement. Literally moving the bass back and forth, creating an effect of movement, is necessary to make the process musical.” Another technical observation regarding Volume Two falls someplace between the opening quote and a conversation on our mutual love for classic-era Hip-Hop production. The chopping function on the Akai MPC allows the user to take any sound and separate the impact from its sustain… or aftermath. Having tinkered on the machine for many years, I always found it fascinating to hold onto the ghosts of notes, as opposed to repeating the point of attack where they are first heard. Luke gives many examples of this through the record. Not only does his creation of the sound resonate, but the actual soul of the notes often lingers in the air like an audience listening to themselves.  A simple pluck of one, or several, strings reverberates between, at times, two amplifiers placed in varying positions around our bassist. These placements allow Luke to not only focus on his contact with the wood, but also the wood's relation to the electricity. Hand strikes a match, causing flame. Then flame touches the tree. Spreading and cleansing the area. It is ultimately a process of universal creation right before the ears. There aren’t too many spaces left where a brother can go into a place quietly and create his own universe.  Gabriel Jermaine Vanlandingham-Dunn, 2021