REVIEW: Emergence Collective’s ‘Swimming in the Early Hours’
The Sheffield-based improv ensemble Emergence Collective typically elude attempts at definitive portrayal.
Their performing line-up, drawn from a 30-strong membership, is an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of disparate musicians. Traditional categorisations of genre dissolve in a blend of folk, jazz and contemporary classical music. Each performance conjures soundscapes never heard before, never to be played again. Amidst modern tendencies to feverishly document and record each lived moment, Emergence Collective are a reminder of something more organic and transient; to see them live is to witness musical spirits brought into existence, their unique tales told, and then laid to rest.
Sometimes, however, their stories live on in more than just memory. Following on from three live recordings, ‘Swimming in the Early Hours’ is the title track of Emergence Collective’s first studio release, captured from a single day in which co-directors Jemma Freese, Juliana Day, Rob Bentall and Zebedee C. Budworth were joined by six other members of the group. True to their ethos, there was no preparation or expectation; just a musical key to follow and a collective commitment to seeing what unfolded.
‘Swimming in the Early Hours’ begins unassumingly with interweaving strings courtesy of Bentall’s nyckelharpa and violinist Ruth Nicholson. Subtle flourishes punctuate drawn-out notes, strands of fog coalescing over softly rippled water. Delicate additions of double bass ground the emergent narrative as each musician adds their telling to the tale. As Freese’s glossolalia vocals counterpoint a coaxing rhythmic motif, we are put in mind of the titular swimmer’s first strokes in the morning twilight: blood flowing, senses enlivened to the whispers of the stirring world around them. It’s a beautiful example of the stark imagery music can create, shorn of all lyrical context beyond a title.
‘Swimming in the Early Hours’’s undulating dynamics command rapt attention throughout the span of its eighteen minutes. A midpoint crescendo, a slow fade, a reemergence driven by quavered pizzicato strings: the effect is gripping, each repeated listen drawing a new element to the fore. Emergence Collective have achieved something remarkable in recording something that sounds so precisely forged and listenable, while losing none of their spontaneous spirit.
You can listen to ‘Swimming in the Early Hours’ here.
Words: Dave Cuthbertson
