I hope David Daniell and Douglas McCombs don't take offense when I say that their second album, Versions, is a marked improvement over 2009's Sycamore. I guess I wouldn't blame them if they did, because while both records cull from the same improvised studio session, only the first was edited and assembled by the pair themselves. Versions was crafted by McCombs' former Tortoise bandmate Ken (aka "Bundy K.") Brown, who got to choose whatever he liked from the seven hours of source material. So perhaps the increased strength is as much due to his vision as that of Daniell and McCombs.
Still, the pair's well-meshed guitars are what stand out, just as they did on Sycamore, which was quite good in its own right*.* The difference is that Brown's selections are spacious and open, resulting in a more expansive listening experience. His 45-minute mix has the feel of an IMAX nature doc-- each track slowly spreads out like the sun filling a horizon. Along the way, the duo attempts many modes-- simple loops, sparse melodies, droning ambience, loose jamming-- with equal success. And throughout all that variety (made more complex by the contributions of four different drummers), they stay remarkably consistent, never over-stretching or forcing anything.
The coherence is most evident in the atmosphere Daniell and McCombs create. Every track exudes a serenity that's unusually compelling. It can envelop you in the way that standing at the base of a skyscraper and looking skyward can overwhelm. So whether the pair is sparring with Chad Taylor in the first half of "Burn After Reading" (which evokes similar bouts between Steve Gunn and John Truscinski), layering drones over Steven Hess in "Rialto", or rumbling up a beat-less storm cloud in "30265", calm prevails. And it crests on the "Ley Lines", a Krautrock-leaning jam with Tortoise drummer John Herndon. Especially notable there is the restraint Daniell and McCombs employ. Either one could drown the track in chords or sustained tones, but instead they stick hypnotically to small notes and fractured loops.
There was clearly alchemy happening in that original Daniell-McCombs session, but the pair didn't stop there. Versions comes with a second LP comprising a couple of live tracks recorded in 2010. Here, the two musicians sound even more interested in crafting huge, widescreen crescendos. On Side A (taken from a concert in Knoxville, TN), slow, reflective chords and a pounding beat evoke Yo La Tengo covering Earth; on the flip (from a show in Montreal), near-silence builds to near-deafening density. Count these as two more novel approaches from a project that likely has many more sounds and angles up its sleeves.
