Greg Fox's career—both as a drummer in metal and jazz groups, and as a solo artist—has been leading to this moment. Not just to this album, but to the possibilities it affords him as an artist with unparalleled skill performing on the instrument in the back of the bandstand. Though he does have contributors on his second solo album The Gradual Progression, the sound of the album is Fox's alone. He transcends the idea of the solo percussion album as a limited offering to create something teeming with life and love.
The Gradual Progression comes just a few months after the release of the debut album by Ex Eye, Fox’s proggy quartet, where he more often pummels the drums rather than finding subtle ways to redefine what they can do. Before that, he was the drummer of New York black metal band Liturgy, where he found nirvana by playing impossibly fast and precise. Take a listen to either band—or watch one of the many internet videos of Fox performing drums solo—to truly get a sense of Fox’s chops. His jaw-dropping displays of drum aptitude, especially when used in full force, thrashing out textbook blast beats at hyper-speed, have an undeniable visceral pleasure. But these displays are like watching a slam dunk contest; the moves can awe, but they’re not exactly practical.
To broaden his range and create a world unto himself on The Gradual Progression, Fox has utilized new software called Sensory Percussion, which allows for individual parts of drum heads to have different samples mapped onto them. When he hits, you hear both the drum and an array of programmed sounds. How that translates to the final product is... not totally clear. Is that him alone triggering the sci-fi tinkles on “By Virtue of Emptiness,” or one of his album’s guests? Is the soft jazz saxophone recorded in overdubs or a real life collaboration? It’s better to close your eyes and let the music wash over you than try to figure out how it works. And if you must, good luck: The album’s songs have many layers of sound happening at once, and often not in congress.
For someone with such unbelievable skill, there are few moments on The Gradual Progression where you really feel like you are in the presence of a master. So when he does preen, he makes it count. On “My House of Equalizing Predecessors,” Fox dips in and out of blistering drum rolls and blast beats appropriate for his previous work as a metal musician. But the recording is dampened, so even when he approaches serious levels of shred, the drums are backgrounded behind jabs of keyboard and a wordless bit of chanting. It’s overwhelming but beautiful, like stepping inside a waterfall.
There are only six songs which, overall, can feel interchangeable as they all draw from a similarly spiritual vibe. Sometimes the album sounds like typewriters hammering away, sometimes like a child mindlessly poking a wind chime, but it all pulses with the same energy—the kind that powers the brightest ambient music, the most ecstatic jazz, the most serene New Age. The one exception to this overall serenity is “Catching an L,” which feels like a late ’70s funk cast off with weirdly farty synths and a meandering sax. Unless you’re a slap-bass diehard spending all your time wondering what modern-day Mahavishnu Orchestra B-sides might be like, skip it.
After listening closely to the album on headphones, I finally played it on a stereo one sunny morning. Unconfined, the music bloomed and, moment by moment, my house vibrated. It felt delightful and it felt new. “What else? What new places can we explore?” this record seems to ask. That Fox answers with such grace is what makes it so special.
