Moments of bliss and wonder swirl like flecks of rain on a cold, bright morning throughout the third solo album by experimental saxophone player Cole Pulice. Melodies flutter in and out of focus, veiled by rising gusts of distortion. As wayward as the weather, the LP’s seven tracks morph and elongate constantly. Late in, a human voice is added, ascending through the mists like whale song from the depths.
Suffused in a drowsy ache, Land’s End Eternal is frozen in that eternal moment of calm before the storm – it comes as no surprise that one of the inspirations was a downpour blowing in off the artist’s home in Oakland, California. Amid this gorgeously overcast onslaught, the defining tone is a bristling quiet, conveyed in the main by Pulice’s brooding, signal-processed saxophone. This is an instrument that works by translating the human breath into digital notes and feeding them through a synthesizer. Think Bowie in Berlin meets Cher versus the vocoder in ‘Believe’.
Like many profound moments in life, Pulice decided to go it alone as an avant-garde saxophonist while attending a pop concert. The only difference is that they were on stage at the time, performing with furtive folkie Bon Iver during his 22, A Million Tour. Chatting to other band members about their non-Bon projects, Pulice discovered that many of their fellow players had rewarding solo careers. There was, they concluded, nothing to stop them from doing likewise. So began a new chapter that has brought Pulice from their hometown of Minneapolis to their new base in the Bay Area and has encompassed two collaborative LPs with ambient jazz musician Lynn Avery.
The big departure on Land’s End Eternal is the addition of guitar – which Pulice plays in the twinkling, barely there style of Durutti Column. There are sparks of shoegaze in the sprawling opener ‘Fragments of a Slipstream Dream’ while the core triptych of tracks, ‘In A Hidden Nook Between Worlds’, parts one to three, unspool in hazy eddies.
The effect is lovely but never quite carefree and certainly not cosy. Whether it’s the stark suggestion of church bells (in fact, a field recording of an abandoned grand piano) on ‘In This & Every Life’ or the escalating tension between guitar and saxophone on closing number ‘After The Rain’ – a great great grandchild of Pink Floyd’s ‘The Great Gig in the Sky’ courtesy of otherworldly folk artist Maria BC’s shimmering vocals – there is a feeling throughout of ominous forces coalescing out of earshot.
Proggy and foggy, Land’s End Eternal is a beautiful record. But just like a power nap on a sunny day, you know it can’t last forever. Forever on the horizon is the hint of a gathering darkness – a panoply of emotions that Pulice powerfully conveys, equipped only with guitar, saxophone, and a sense of limitless possibility.
