Brandon Seabrook's brutalovechamp

Guitarist and banjoist Brandon Seabrook is known for pushing his music past the far reaches of the extreme. Welding together elements from punk, jazz, pop, and metal, Seabrook revels in abrasive textures, paint-peeling virtuosity, and angularity so severe as to draw blood at the touch. But his Pyroclastic Records debut,brutalovechamp, is a different beast entirely. No less bold or bracing than his more confrontational work, the album trades the corrosive for the lyrical, venturing into areas of beauty and deeply personal emotion with the same intrepid spirit of exploration that Seabrook’s music has always thrived upon.

Released this past year, brutalovechamp features Seabrook’s stunning and malleable octet Epic Proportions, which includes percussionist and vocalist Nava Dunkelman, cellist Marika Hughes, bassists Eivind Opsvik and Henry Fraser, electronic musician and vocalist Chuck Bettis, John McCowen on clarinets and recorders, and Sam Ospovat on drums, vibraphone and percussion. The unique ensemble evolved from the sextet Die Trommel Fatale, which released its self-titled album in 2017. “I wanted to push myself to grow as a composer,” Seabrook explains. “This band is a perfect outlet to do that with. All of these musicians can really do anything, which enables a lot of experimentation.”

The group and the music emerged from a period of what Seabrook refers to as “drastic flux” in both his personal and artistic lives. As he writes in the liner notes, “I felt the need to find meaning in that chaos. To mirror, amplify, and transform that state, this sound word intentionally disregards any familiar chronology or form… I imagined a sound realm that would reflect more life, less process. The result is intimate and vast.”

 As that description suggests, the music of brutalovechamp reveals a more mature and vulnerable composer, but never one that is comfortable with playing things safe. These eight selections may not come wrapped in the barbed wire and broken glass surfaces that characterize Seabrook’s past efforts, but they are rife with unexpected juxtapositions and labyrinthine structures. The music is vividly echoed by the repurposed metal sculptures of artist John Chamberlain that grace the album booklet, brutal steel and corroded colors shaped into fluid and vibrant curves.

Seabrook’s departure is evident from the outset, as the title track opens with a tender melody on recorder and mandolin, lending a Medieval feel that would sound appropriate accompanying a treatise on courtly love. The piece blossoms into a stark chamber piece with the entrance of cello and bass, gradually building in tension and complexity throughout. As in the case in most of these pieces, improvisation is limited, with the musicians adding accents and filigrees to the composition’s tapestry rather than embarking on full-fledged solos. “brutalovechamp” does break down into a spotlight for Dunkelman’s percussion, a richly textured excursion as dense with space as the remainder of the track is with sound.

Launching with a dramatic two-chord fanfare, “I Wanna Be Chlorophylled” is a two-part suite that reimagines serialism in a rock and roll context – intricate polyphony with the blunt force of the Ramones. 12-tone counterpoint is passed among the band, mutating by the end into a serrated drone. Fraser is given the feature here, bowing his bass so low that it seems more felt than heard at times, followed by a knotty Seabrook solo. The second half is even more sparse, rinsing the piece away with monolithic tones and white noise. 

Gongs and mandolin introduce “The Perils of Self-Betterment” with a manic serenity, the agitated tune drawing on Seabrook’s experience playing with Klezmer and Eastern European folk ensembles, ending with the guttural flight of McCowen’s contrabass clarinet. Resonant chimes bring the proceedings to an arresting halt for the pendulum swing of “From Lucid to Ludicrous,” gradually accruing from preternatural stillness to absorbing atmospherics. With Bettis’ anarchic vocal turn, “Gutbucket Asylum” is an eruption of free playing that harkens back to Seabrook’s more acerbic music.

The gossamer scrape of “Libidinal Bouquets” is centered around Seabrook’s bowed banjo, an uncanny sound somewhere between violin and grinding metal, all cohering into a piece of taut clockwork minimalism. The composer’s rubbery guitar tones introduce “Compassion Montage,” a shimmering an mysterious piece highlighted by the operatic animalism of Dunkelman’s and Bettis’ soaring vocals.

“A lot of the music that I listen to embraces lyricism and space in so many ways,” explains Seabrook. “Everything from Mahler to Bob Dylan to Joni Mitchell. My music was always about shock and density and physicality, very mercurial with a lot of jump cutting. With brutalovechamp I wanted to slow things down and open things up.”

The results are a stunning success, bringing the vigor and aggressive eclecticism of Seabrook’s past work to a more heartfelt and harmonically exploratory work. It’s a bold leap forward that doesn’t abandon his brutalist past so much as uncover unexpected depths at its emotional core.

Brandon Seabrook is a New York City-based guitarist and banjoist. His music fuses a wide range of practices and traditions: punk rock, jazz, pop, and metal. As a guitarist his work feeds off tactile sensations; rapid tremolo picking, contorted clusters, and extreme physicality. His ensemble music leans on a wide range of variance: jump cuts, chance, improvisation, humor, and tight segues. He has led a diverse range of groups including Seabrook Power Plant, Die Trommel Fatale, Epic Proportions, and the Brandon Seabrook Trio with Cooper-Moore and Gerald Cleaver.