I’ve been aware of The Necks for a while, but this is the first time I’ve really delved into their …what … their world, their ethos, their music. For a band that has been together for nearly 39 years and has produced 20 studio recordings, it’s remarkable to say that their latest work is a monumental achievement. But that’s how Disquiet strikes me. Artists of all stripes are busily reflecting our chaotic world back to us in their myriad ways, to be sure. But this sprawling set of three discs containing around three hours of entirely improvised music captures the zeitgeist in ways that are as magnificent as they are unsettling.
The Necks are an Australian trio, formed in 1987: Chris Abrahams on piano and Hammond organ, Tony Buck on drums, percussion and electric guitar, and Lloyd Swanton on bass guitar and double bass. Loosely categorized as avant garde jazz, The Necks’ music incorporates principles of jazz, free jazz and especially minimalism. In live performance, all is improvised, with one player typically opening with a quietly played motif that the others pick up on and pass back and forth, letting it slowly morph through repetition with subtle changes. On recordings, though still improvised and with the core instruments still in play, the trio makes use of the possibilities of the studio and the ability to edit, layer, and incorporate other elements.
Disquiet consists of four extended pieces: “Causeway” and “Warm Running Sunlight,” each at about 30 minutes; “Rapid Eye Movement” at just under an hour; and “Ghost Net,” lasting just shy of an hour and a quarter. Each piece has a distinct personality, but all are disquieting in some way. “Warm Running Sunlight” is the warmest, sunniest and perhaps most hopeful, and at times the most recognizably “jazz” in form. But darkness and an unsettled mood lurks always at the edges in arco bass drone at a pitch that becomes uncomfortable, and music concrete in the form of indistinct shouting or singing voices that vie for attention but never satisfy.
Recognizable themes or motifs appear and fade away throughout the recording, across all the tracks. Particularly on keyboards — or maybe I just recognize them more easily on piano and organ. Buck frequently plays his cymbals and other percussive surfaces like a gamelan, a clanging disturbance behind the tranquil keyboard arpeggios and languidly plucked bass, such that the disquiet is always present at some level.
Though just as immersive as ever, Disquiet departs from the aesthetics of 2023’s Travel and 2024’s Bleed. It’s not as bracingly avant garde as the latter, nor does it sport the variety of rhythm and tonality of the former, which rose to majestic heights on the cathedral organ driven “Bloodstream.” (Yes, I’ve gone back and listened to those two in preparation for this review.) As minimalism, this is definitely not ambient music. With Disquiet more than ever, the music of The Necks refuses to fade into the background. Listen. Listen.
(Northern Spy, 2025)
