A DARK AND JOYFUL RIDE

Every once in a while I hear the opening phrase of a new album, and I have an immediate reaction to it: “I’m not sure where this is going, but I’m there.” It doesn’t happen often, but when I heard the minimal, chunky chord progression that kicks off Helen Money’s second album, it took me about fifteen seconds to want in. The immense breathy, big-room production, the percussive, metallic fret noise, and the sliding of fingers on strings (one of my favorite all-time sounds) had me instantly hooked. I had no idea what the record was about, whom it was by, or indeed what it was (guitar, I’d assumed), but I got that surge of excitement that accompanies the discovery of something I’m definitely going to listen to over and over. And the impression lasted all through the album, because each track introduced something different, a mood, an effect or a theme that caught my attention. When I found out that the entire recording was played on the cello, I was, as they say in the UK, gobsmacked.

Alison Chesley is the sole member of Helen Money. She’s a classical cellist with rock and roll heart. Part of her mission is to make the cello sound like, well, something other than a cello; and she clearly wants to rock. She does both on In Tune, her second solo release. She also composes for poets and choreographers and has collaborated with an eclectic array of musicians from soaring ecstato-core instrumentalists, Mono to Husker Du’s Bob Mould. On her first solo work, the self-titled Helen Money, she wanted to find out just what she could achieve on her own, with the cello as a solo instrument (occasionally accompanied by guitar) in a new context. The result is an accomplished, thundering, melodic, atmospheric, grooving collection of tracks that express a vast range of emotions, one of the signature pieces being an instrumental version of Neil Young’s “Birds.”

On In Tune she goes even further, and for a significant portion of the record, it’s difficult to believe that the sounds she’s creating are all generated by cello. The first track, the intriguing “MF,” starts with an understated, PJ Harvey-esque chord progression that mystifies – so tense and understated that at this point anything could happen. What does happen is the distortion kicks in, along with a clattering beat, and then it simmers down again until an erupting crescendo (underpinned by dark, electric arpeggios) announces itself as if to say, “aha! It’s strings!” It’s a wonderful moment, because it’s a release of tension, and an indication of where things just might go.

But it’s always a surprise.

The second track introduces itself with a tense, bowed phrase that could be a soundtrack from a 50s Melodrama which crashes into a relentless, metal hammer-on riff, eventually dissolving into deep, phlanged-out chords and orchestral stabs. Chesley uses atypical techniques and the accoutrements of rock and roll to create an exceptionally interesting and at times terrifically dark body of work. She layers the cello parts in different voices, and she does it so artfully that every essential layer has a distinct purpose. Sometimes the layering even suggests she’s got a full band there with her-- drums and all. The album peaks with the tense, rollicking cover of the Minutemen’s “Political Song For Michael Jackson to Sing,” where she suddenly becomes a one-woman hardcore band. Her version packs just as hard a punch, with all the energy and frantic percussiveness of the original; it’s one of the most unusual cover concepts ever. The other tracks on the record also take us into unchartered cello territory, mixing clattering rhythms, symphonic swells, ominous, plucked chords and razor-toned riffs.

I wasn’t at all surprised when I found out that Chesley recorded In Tune at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio studio in Chicago. It’s the perfect pairing of artist and studio: an acoustic, organic instrument striving for a humongous rock and roll ethic. The gigantic live room and exquisite microphone techniques employed at Electrical allow you hear all the breaths, clicks, squeaks and slides while magnificently accenting the metallic, percussive hits, droning delay, and righteous distortion that Chesley brings to the party. Even if I didn’t know that this record was created at Electrical, it’s clear that the production is integral to the material, showcasing it in a muscular and vivid way, both accenting and adding to its inherent vitality.

Another right and proper pairing on this project is artist and label. For more than fifteen years, Table of the Elements/Radium have been purveyors of experimental music, both new and forgotten. Perhaps even more accurately, the label almost single handedly fused the avant with the rockin’, becoming the bridge between art and ass kicking. Helen Money stands proudly on this bridge, in the traditions of other TotE artists like Tony Conrad, Zeena Parkins and Melissa St. Pierre – all musicians who use classical instruments to channel (in varying degrees) rock and roll sensibilities. In Tune is a fusion record, really, and Chesley’s classical technique, and eclectic background fuse together here in the most disarming and elegant way.

This is a mysterious recording. It never goes quite where you expect it to, and you better listen up, or you might miss out. It’s sometimes a moody, mournful ride -- almost always a dangerous one, and Alison Chesley uses only one vehicle: the cello. But she takes us to such a vast array of locations; she might as well be employing an entire convoy, which is a testament to her ability. And the whole thing hangs together wonderfully, with a sense of artful purpose, which is a testament to her vision. This is a decidedly dark record, but it’s also playful in the way it reaches for the limits of what an artist can accomplish with a given medium, in this case, the classical cello. In Tune is irresistibly entertaining, and its darkness elicits that pure kind of joy you get when confronted with something you know is going to move you to a place you really want to go. What this record does, and does so with expert musicianship, bold ideas and arresting dynamics, is not only demand that you pay attention but also make you glad that you did.

Terry de Castro
Los Angeles, CA
April, 2009