On paper, the pairing of Neil Michael Hagerty and James Jackson Toth is too on-the-nose. Both have histories in groups (Royal Trux and Wooden Wand and the Vanishing Voice, respectively) who began as sprawling avant-rock outfits, then gradually incorporated traditional influences— blues, country, classic rock—without losing their eccentric edges. Their solo careers have followed similar paths, glancing at the past while breaking open the future. Even Hagerty and Toth’s singing voices—a mix of nasally twang and slacker drawl—are similar. The prospect of a collaboration seems redundant, likely to sound like just another record in their vast discographies.
It takes Qalgebra about 10 seconds to blow those worries away. The coiled riffs and crackling beat of tightly-wound opener "Spindizzy" sound more like vintage Meat Puppets than anything Hagerty or Toth has done before. The song’s taut energy doesn’t last for all of Qalgebra, half of which is occupied by a single 18-minute title track filled with ebbs and flows. And the overall sound isn’t a radical departure for either artist; you’ll easily recognize their voices, riffs, and sly senses of humor.
But for the majority of Qalgebra*’*s five songs, Hagerty and Toth (alongisde bassist Darin Gray and drummer Eric Van Leuven) find a level of urgency and sharpness distinct from their previous efforts. It's as if they were only able to play for a weekend and had to make the most of every moment. Nothing sounds rushed, but everything moves forward at a steady, enthralling clip. The pair feed off each other naturally, their adventurous guitar playing bleeding across every moment while never obscuring basic, uncomplicated songs.
There’s also something funny and oddly joyful about Qalgebra. Most of the tunes swing with a casual levity that at times approaches giddiness. The music’s playful atmosphere is made literal by Hagerty and Toth’s deadpan banter at the end of tracks, which sounds like an aging stoner’s version of mid-album rap skits. (Representative sample: "What’s the best word?" "Biggie fries." "That’s two words.") Whatever the pair might have been smoking, it gives Qalgebra an endearing breeziness.
That feeling is what makes the long, album-ending title track fitting, despite being a stylistic opposite to the rest of Qalgebra. At first glance its improv aura makes it seem like filler, an easy way to pad an EP out into an LP. But a few listens reveal logic in the sonic rambling, much the way Yo La Tengo’s extended jams are like stretched-out echoes of tighter tunes. The expansion comes as a bit of a relief after four much snappier songs, but what matters most is how psyched everyone sounds about playing with each other. Both Hagerty and Toth have traversed dark places in their work, but Qalgebra is unabashedly happy, and all the better for it.
