ROCK BOTTOM

With Soft Machine and a tragic accident on his back, Wyatt turns down the mallet and turns trough the piano. Somber, full of sorrow and still, a light in the road. Wyatt's Rock Bottom is only the start to ascension. It wasn't easy for me to listen this record, actually is dense, obscure, dim and too atmosphere for any album. But then I've learn to understand it and surely learned to enjoy it as well.

So let's begun with the headstone of this album, this mere track by itself worth the whole record, and prepare us to be deeply immersed in it music. 'Sea Song' is one of those bizarre, kind of syncopated and yet seductive sounds that somehow trapped you just like a siren voice. And this siren singing of love among freaks and drunks portrays fiercely and effectively Wyatt's mood and the way he transform his drum beats into keyboard beats. A true romantic tune in every sense of the word.

With a little more of peaceful pace and jazzy mood, "A Last Straw" swims among the musical scales, drawing its own progression over a multilayered piece, diving in crescendo for an inner world of submarine beauty. From this song's lyrics, the album took its name.

Now we enter into a suit of sorts, the progressive attitude of renewal burst with a first trace of "Little Red Riding Hood Hit the Road" With a merge of the Canterbury elements in a more psychedelic and surreal lyrics, half sung half spoken, the rhythm never stops, every part in the song flows mystical like a new emersion, lost and dark unknowable deeps left behind, the sunrays in the waves moves incandescent as an assorted road to the surface that fades over the bass and electric guitar distorting scales.

As a second half we're introduced into a more freestyled medley that starts with "Alifib" with a hypnotic rhythmical bass in the back and a more exploring guitar jag. Almost half way ran and the lyrics enter shy and tempting, before haunting crying about a co-depending relationship with? "Alife" now more visceral and pacing over percussion steps of tribal moving in circles of guttural love, the lyrics are more likely spoken, the entire instrumentation roams in an acid hue. More jazz oriented and perhaps more chaotic, the songs seems to bursts out followed by a decelerated fall, where Alife defines herself over the song ramblings. Pure magical.

The album close with the return of "Little Red Riding Hood Hit the Road" with a more lyrical expression, almost in a crimsonian mood, the guitar paints a desperate world now very evident out of the water, but still falling into deeps holes of oppressive earth, the lyrics paints a farewell to the mole (kind of closure for the past) and fades into a much more ethereal tune with flat lyrics almost just spitted out. The violins scratches through a pell-mell divinity shriek out of madness. The final laugh, the madman triumph, a sonorous poem for foggy days.