Uncivilized – Uncivilized Plays Peaks

peaks

Tom Csatari (chuh-tar-ee) is fucking cool.

But first, if you don’t know. There’s this little series from David Lynch called “Twin Peaks”. It came out in 1990 and completely fucked my world. Despite its weirdo directing and storytelling, this series was so fucking popular that it even got a new season 25 years later. I watched that new season with the glee of a preteen hopped up on sugar, sunshine, and a unicorn’s wet dreams. It’s so hugely fucking popular that I assume you already know all this shit. But, straight up? I gave you this little intro because I’m like a giddy schoolgirl with shaky knees for my Twin Peaks. 

Tom Csatari leads this Twin Peaks cover album. This motherfucker plays guitar with the breadth of a steamboat. If you want a name to look out for, here’s your fucking guy. This shit is so raw it’s like sashimi with salmonella. The recording is raw. The playing is raw. And though this shit is called jazz, it comes out with a more traditional folk vibe. This album is jazz like Tom Waits is jazz. Csatari plays the guitar with the personality of a quiet man dressed head to toe in a black suit walking into a 1920s club with a cigarette hanging off his lip. You never see his face. And after he leaves, stories spread that they once saw the devil play the guitar. Motherfucker is slicker than an oil spill in a waterpark.

Uncivilized is Tsatari’s band. You’ve got Julian Cubillos (electric guitar), Nick Jozwiak (double bass), Rachel Housle (percussion), Dominic Mekky (organ), Levon Henry (alto sax), Kyle Wilson (tenor sax), Casey Berman (bass clarinet), Tristan Cooley (flute) and vocalist Ivy Meissner. These motherfuckers slide and work with each other like a well-tuned kitchen staff during a lunch rush. This is a live album. The mics on this shit aren’t tight to each instrument. It feels like a single mic was thrown in the room as a last thought. You’d think that this might ruin the recording. But, instead, it gives the music a personal feel, like listening to a cherished demo tape in your first car. You can feel the room, the small crowd, and each player smiling ear-to-ear as they play out some of their favourite tunes. Sometimes there can be music so raw there’s still a heartbeat to it. And if you put your ear up to listen to it, this shit will make you grin like you’re a fucking idiot. 

 

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