The distance between a chair and a table
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As the album title suggests, this latest Molloy offering is replete with sounds of incandescent abandon. Slide guitar has been relegated to a sonic historical periphery. I hear the echoic eight notes of genius trying to emancipate itself from its own intellectual strongholds. For although Molloy is gifted with techniques that most guitarists usually take years to acquire, there is also inherent to the Molloy aesthetic a poetic sense that goes way beyond ostentation. From the semi-spoken word of Oblivious Skies, to the Kazoo/Bagpipe overdrive of King Parrot; from the moonshine fueled and CB radio imbued stylings of Crickets Took My Lunch Money, to Bird - with its ring modulated pentatonic onslaught - I hear a juvenile Ph.d burning his dissertations at the commencement podium, a brilliant method actor declining an Oscar, a master cartographer opting not to be guided by his own skills, but instead a desire for a sojourn along the hardest possible way back home. And the name of that home is Oblivion, illuminated only by a sliver of Luna. The Distance Between a Chair and a Table - finds Molloy closing with a dulcimer meets square wavy lead guitar chorale. The cavernous growl of power chord volume swells accents the farewell. The color of that Limelight must be black and so the only way to be "seen", in this scene, is to make a sound.
Max Go
