Greg Fox’s main gig is the drum chair for the progressive black metal act Liturgy, though he also leads Guardian Alien. Kid Millions has long helmed the skins for Oneida and is 50% of People of the North. Together they comprise the Fox Millions Duo, a heavy partnership informed by the outer reaches of jazz improvisation and multiple shadings of the avant-garde. Lost Time contains two tracks documenting the tandem’s outward expansion and forward motion; it’s available on vinyl with the requisite download through the Thrill Jockey label.
Once upon a transaction, a grizzled old shopkeeper explained to my youthful self that records focused primarily on the drums could be efficiently lumped into two categories: novelty/gimmickry and self-indulgent hooey. His example of the former was Rich Versus Roach, and while I wouldn’t classify the gathering of Buddy and Max as terrible (spoiler: Roach wins rather handily), it is more than a tad calculated and ultimately underwhelming.
That slab featured the working bands of both drummers circa 1959; albums exclusively encompassing drums and percussion were/are a much rarer breed, and amassing them all will surely require a long shelf. The LP I brought to the counter on the afternoon detailed above would persist in figuring prominently in any collection with drums at the center; specifically, ‘twas a somewhat battered copy of the sole ’66 ESP-Disk from the Milford Graves Percussion Ensemble.
The cynical oversimplification of that vendor of yore notwithstanding, the drum-centric approach can yield a rewarding list: Baby Dodds’ drum solos for Circle Records and his Smithsonian 10-inch “Talking and Drum Solos,” Roach’s long-running percussion group M’Boom, Euro jazz/free improv lynchpin Han Bennink’s Tempo Comodo and Nerve Beats, Kenny Clarke’s summit meeting of avant-drum heavyweights Pieces of Time featuring Graves, Andrew Cyrille, and Famoudou Don Moye, Susie Ibarra’s excellent Drum Sketches, and Chris Corsano’s industrial strength The Young Cricketer.
That’s merely a handful, and I definitely (but unintentionally) omitted everyone’s favorite. However, my considered sampling leads us in concise fashion to the Fox Millions Duo. Some background: in addition to Liturgy and Guardian Alien, whose latest effort was ‘14’s Spiritual Emergency on Thrill Jockey, Greg Fox has collaborated with PC Worship, Colin Stetson, and Ben Frost while playing in Zs.
Alongside his input to Oneida and the duo People of the North (filled-out by his Oneida bandmate Bobby Matador) Kid Millions is the leader of the unsurprisingly drum-oriented unit Man Forever. In ‘14 Thrill Jockey issued Man Forever’s Ryonen, Millions’ team-up with the lauded NYC-based ensemble So Percussion. On top of this activity he’s played with Laurie Anderson, Yo La Tengo, and Spiritualized, releasing a duo disc last year with the latter outfit’s J. Spaceman.
Lost Time’s creative umbrella serves as these prolific experimentalists inaugural affair. The distinct halves distain concessions to accessibility in equal measure and complete an LP that’s largely satisfying; looped electronic textures set the stage on side one’s “Telegy/Time Lapse,” an icy framework combining with bloop-waves of analog synth to create an effective aural base beneath the eruption of twin kit fervor.
While Millions has paired with the titanium-hard saxophone of Borbetomagus’ Jim Sauter (2014’s Fountain on Family Vineyard) and Fox has studied his instrument with the aforementioned Graves, the pair don’t sidestep rock’s bulky athletic thud; there’s a fair amount of kick-drum in evidence amongst the general explosiveness, and as it unfurls the thrust is mildly reminiscent of a fever dream inhabited by the restless spirits of Elvin Jones and Mitch Mitchell.
The duo’s movements naturally invite comparison to precedent, but it’s also impressive how the eclecticism doesn’t fall under the spell of one particular influence. And make no mistake, Lost Time isn’t a bit shy in its desire to get experimentally noisy; at approximately 7:30 the drummers lay out for an excursion that kinda implies a dentist suctioning out a mouth from inside a wind tunnel, this section continuing until the mid-way point.
The 20 minute duration eschews avant clichés. Fairly early in the piece the rumbling comes to an abrupt halt only to immediately recommence, a maneuver frankly throwing these ears for a loop. But if initially unexpected, instead of cultivating a sense of randomness the tactic suggests at least moderate pre-session planning or consequent editing.
Just as plain is the substantial layering of “Telegy/Time Lapse”’s whole; at its core is found Fox and Millions’ amplified heartbeats. This aspect (inspired by Graves) is intermittently audible yet seems to provide an anchor throughout, the aggressiveness of the experimentation never lapsing into uncontrolled mayhem, even as the screams of the participants (closer to joyous than anguished) are folded low into the mix.
Amidst the hairy noise elements, side one’s boisterous oomph can’t avoid oozing moments tangibly jazzy, though folks unaware of or allergic to the undying free-avant-ecstatic wing of the form are unlikely to come to the same conclusion. Another helping of this meal on Lost Time might’ve worked out perfectly fine, but “Post Encounter Effect” broadens the program through a far more structured modus operandi.
Across the flip the Duo investigates an unflagging rhythmic motif augmented by strummed guitar, keyboard, and reportedly trumpet. Also lasting nearly 20 minutes, it propels rock-like intensity into hypnotic realms underpinned by prime drone. Unceasingly tense, the atmosphere is enhanced by the precision, Thrill Jockey’s reference to Steve Reich connecting as legit and not a promotional name drop.
And if giving a dark-hued treadmill a thorough examination, the pace keeps the mood from tipping overboard into heavy-handedness. It can even be assessed as a bit psychedelic, though it doesn’t expand as much as simply envelop the listener; those favoring Fox’s work in Liturgy over the union of Millions and Sauter just might prefer “Post Encounter Effect” to “Telegy/Time Lapse.”
But that’s pure speculation. More concretely, Lost Time will appeal to those enjoying the outer limits of contemporary sonic invention; lobes requiring hooks will be left at sea, but the sounds proffered by the duo of Greg Fox and Kid Millions aren’t formless. Discipline, communication, and intelligence guide the abstraction and repetition, and if a few of the ideas occasionally linger a little too long, the worthy sum is elevated by combined inspiration.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
