FROM JAZZ WORD

Exposed improvisation this duet by French-Lebanese alto saxophonist Christine Abdelnour and UK-Dutch guitarist Andy Moor aims to sonically reproduce an altered state of consciousness experienced during unprotected sleep that leads to deep dreaming memories. While the intent may seem figurative, there’s no denying that the two are knowable in creating sequences of intermittent affiliations built from clenched metallic string clangs and thin reed mewls, hisses and drones.

Abdelnour, who has recorded with Magda Mayas, and Moor of the Ex, also know how to alter speed and constancy, and they do so in sequences that require concentrated flutter tonguing and power-chorded string thumps to accentuate cohesion. As demonstrated on tracks such as “Building On Top Of Ourselves” and “Flutter Bucket” mandolin-suggest twangs and mewling lip-buzzes can reshape the expositions. On the first, in fact, detours into amplified rhythms doesn’t prevent tongue stopping burbles and intervallic clangs to evolve in perfect tandem. As the two evolve their configuration in diverse tempos, the stuff that dreams are made of appears to cleave closest to unrelenting, often bass-string emphasized flanges and near-vocalized and onomatopoeic sibilant saxophone yowls and yelps. “80db Is Loud If You’re Snoring” is the most characteristic track. Torqued to a near relentless buzz by midpoint, the narrative is defined by detailed and almost palpable slurred, percussive fingering and a raucous shaking reed drone.

No prescription for sleep apnea cures or pleasant dreams, Unprotected Sleep depicts the creativity that results musically from what others may characterize as nightmares. 

KEN WAXMAN

FROM VITAL WEEKLY

Christine Abdelnour is a French saxophone player of Lebanese descent. She has been recording music over the past decade, primarily working in duos with one other musician at a time. However, she is also a full member of Magda Mayas' Filamental and Split Second groups. Andy Moor is ... a guitarist, and yes .... he played with Dog Faced Hermans and, after having relocated from Edinburgh to Amsterdam, is a full-time member of The Ex, besides playing with the likes of Thurston Moore, Paal Nilssen Love, Mats Gustafson, Ken Vandermark etc.

So expect free improvisation, and you will not be disappointed. But then, there is also a slightly unusual note here. Not only in the shape of a telephone dial tone in the fourth track, adequately titled 'Telephone'. Moor has extensive experience playing all kinds of music, from punk to free improv. The instruments circle each other, exploring the full bandwidth of sounds they can offer. The guitar playing, but also being plucked and used as a percussive source. The saxophone obviously moves between the sound of breath and the notorious squeal. Nevertheless, the whole mood is sombre and at the same time aloof,

'Unprotected Sleep' referring to hypnagogia, the state between waking and sleeping where the mind wanders and is disoriented.

Abdelnour and Moor recorded the first tracks of this CD in 2011 when they met at a festival in France. Not having enough material for a full release, the project was postponed but postponed longer than intended as families and life in general intervened. Only in 2022 they met again at the Ex Festival and record the second part of this release. It is not really possible to tell which parts were produced earlier or later, although the occasional abrupt ending might hint at early work. In any case, this is a release for anyone enjoying the surprisingly wide variety of sounds the two instruments can produce. There is also a humour warning here. And two musicians who manage to safely sleepwalk a tightrope. So to say. (RSW)

FROM AURAL AGGRAVATION

by Christopher Nosnibor

Andy Moor has been nothing if not prolific over the course of his career, which is now well into its fourth decade, and his collaborations are truly multitudinous. He’s one of those musicians who clearly thrives on this approach to working – as comfortable contributing as steering his own path.

I’ve covered a fair few of his efforts over the last decade and a bit, both here and elsewhere – with my belated introduction in 2011 arriving via his appearance on Anne-James Chaton’s ‘Transfer /2: Princess in a Car’ single release.

Moor’s style is by no means accessible or easy, and is as distant from mainstream as is possible, but it’s highly distinctive, and this is unquestionably a significant part of his appeal, both to listeners and fellow musicians.

For this work, the accompanying notes explain how ‘Christine Abdnelnour and Andy Moor have explored the notion of hypnagogia or ‘unprotected sleep’ to drive their process for this improvised album, delving in their own experience and memories. Unprotected sleep is commonly defined as an altered state of consciousness that occurs beyond the proper or intended time of waking up, not sleeping in your own safe bed, or even sleeping without a blanket. Being slightly out of phase, one is vulnerable, fragile, but the mind is at the same time very fluid, ultra-associative with an extraordinary memory. In their music making Abdelnour (saxophone) and Moor (guitar) explore the possibilities of real and hallucination sounds and ranges that might come with deep dreaming.’

I had never known that this was a term before, but that it exists speaks on multiple levels, and on a personal level. Sleep is one of the most vital of human functions, but also the most neglected. I’m writing this at 11:30 at night after starting work at 6:30 this morning; five hours of sleep disturbed by lengthy anxiety dreams and broken by the occasional nocturnal anxiety attack is standard. I’m by no means alone in my difficult and often antagonistic and troubled relationship with sleep.

On Unprotected Sleep, Christine Abdelnour and Andy Moor soundtrack the traumas of troubled sleep magnificently. Moor’s scratchy guitar is both metronomic and agitatingly atonal, forging an aural representation of the head-nodding fatigue that so often sweeps over while challenged by needling thoughts that prick a way to wakefulness, or otherwise nag at the psyche

The heavy, grating drone of ‘80db is Loud if You’re Snoring’ ret with scraping guitars and squawks and scrapes if feedback before surging amongst the clattering of cans and escalating to a peak that will inevitably collapse. It drones and groans, and ultimately fades out.

On ‘Compartment 5’, the drone reaches an oppressive level, and it’s enriched by a blank, drony thrum. The density grows, as does the intensity, and it reminds me of the hours spent turning over and over, unable to find that right position, unable to get comfortable, and unable to that headspace conducive to settle to rest: instead, everything is an awkward, uncomfortable churn, accompanied by an unsettling sense off impending doom. The ‘Exchanging Oversize Chrome Objects’ brings a head-pounding crashing beat and uncomfortable churn that’s deeply unsettling, and there’s an uneasiness that permeates the album as a whole.

For many, the experience, if not necessarily the specific sounds, will resonate. Unprotected Sleep is a far from relaxing or soothing sonic experience, built on drones and dissonance, lurching atonal wandering guitar parts and inconsistent tempos that butt against low-key but uncomfortable saxophone drones and honks. Enjoyable is not the word, but compelling most certainly is.

 Gonzo