(Soul On Rice)
Trumpet and preparations, yes, but it’s not so easy. Tom Djll plays driven by a different quest, which leads him to seek enlightenment through the beatitude of deformation; as a matter of fact, his instrument dares peeping in those rooms where most people don’t even touch the door handle, finding the corners of a theoretical timbral “pejoration” that – just like the proverbial black swan – is instead his magnificently unique voice, characterized by truncated harmonics, radical distortions and substantial “it’s-damp-here-in-the-tube” winds of anarchy. He doesn’t need to raise the volume too much, as silence is an integral part of most of these pieces, a collection of counterfeit serenades and deceitful reflections that are indeed the smithereens of an authenticity that no one really wants to experience anymore. But Djll is right there to show that there’s beauty in awkwardness, too. Although clearly a disbeliever in anything predictable, he also produces a nice version of the standard “Brother, can you spare a dime?”, making his instrument akin to a man singing with a sock full of holes in his mouth. But the very best moments come when we’re forced to find an apparent framework in what sounds like a series of subdued messages coming from the distressed intimacy of an unrepentant dissenter who also happens to be a very intelligent person. Therefore, don’t expect just another “experimental solo trumpet record” here: it’s only a small conduit through which a man expresses his total distrust to musical etiquettes.