SAM WENC
LANGUAGE AT AN ANGLE

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Language At An Angle is an eight-part tone poem. It is a journey through the heart, and, as the title suggests, a reflection on meaning itself. It views language not as a monolith–something concrete, unchanging and knowable–but rather as a process enlivened through the making of itself. Sharp angles, round edges, shifting patterns that live their own lives in one phrase before becoming something totally new in the next. Its meaning dances between the interactions between players, the surfaces of cymbals and strings, the transformation of motifs and time itself. And the music itself is fucking gorgeous.

Aesthetically, Language sits in a unique place at the edges of free-improvisation, East Asian court music and the overtone-centered wizardry of drone technicians like Ellen Fullman and Kali Malone. Wenc’s omnivorous taste, nimble timing and ear for crushing melodies on the pedal steel (which is indeed a kind of guitar!) also give echoes of the best moments from 90s Thrill Jockey and Dave Pajo on the early Tortoise records. But, compositionally and spiritually, there is no greater influence on this record than the late Susan Alcorn, to whom the album is dedicated.

Like all of those who had the privilege to be taught by Susan, Wenc was transformed by her presence and generosity. While her boundless creativity and fierce technical ability on the instrument are a treasure to all open-minded steel players, what I understand Sam to treasure most about her mentorship were the more intangible things–the wholeness of spirit that she brought to her playing and relationships, and her sensitivities to the spiritual forces of the world. Susan’s passing was a devastating loss for her community: there are some transformations for which you can’t prepare. What Language at an Angle offers instead is a practice of making meaning in this world, tenuously, temporarily, as it is, deeply. And in doing so, he is passing on a gift. Ready or not, we might need it.