The aptly-named Scorch Trio are three of Scandinavian free music's most highly regarded (and prolific) players, ones who record their LPs live without overdubs to analogue tape and are primarily organized around the fire-breathing work of California-born, Finnish-based guitarist-composer Raoul Björkheim.
Rounded out by the formidable rhythm section of bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love (both members of Mats Gustafsson's the Thing, among countless other credits), Scorch Trio produce a particularly ornery form of incendiary fusion, a hybrid strain that bears nearly as much resemblance to over-driven rock trios like Cream or Band of Gypsies as it does to avant-jazz guitarists such as Sonny Sharrock and Nels Cline. However, thanks in part to the group's extemporaneous recording style, compositional interests get short shrift on Luggumt; instead, the musicians focus almost exclusively on uncorking their inner genies. And though this approach results in some bone-powdering displays of rabid virtuosity and group interplay, it does not do wonders for the album's staying power.
As many guitarists do, Björkheim unabashedly uses Hendrix as his sonic point of disembarkation. This is never more evident than on the 12-minute opening epic "Kjøle Hole". Strafing torrents of sparks like an errant tommy gun, Björkheim's playing is an unstoppable natural force, his every rapid-fire note articulated so precisely it sounds as though he's using a straight razor for a pick. A few minutes into this attack his tone takes on an unearthly, almost robotic-sounding distortion. As the track progresses it takes on a pronounced metallic edge, and towards its end there are a couple note-heavy passages that sound similar to Van Halen's "Eruption"-- a development I didn't exactly find unwelcome.
Elsewhere on Luggumt, the Trio wisely monitor their pace, allowing spacious tracks like "Synnja Vegga" and "Snaeke Rojnd Naevinj" enough fresh oxygen and legroom that each individual sound is able to appeal for a listener's attention. Throughout the album, Håker Flaten and Nilssen-Love perform yeoman's work to keep the proceedings from collapsing under the considerable weight of Björkheim's onslaught. Nilssen-Love in particular is an utter maniac, never neglecting any portion of his drumkit for any significant length of time (although there are several points when he probably could benefit from being stingier with the cymbals). As often can be the case with live free/improv recordings, Luggumt's charms are most blisteringly evident on first hearing, and incongruously enough this album is perhaps best enjoyed via infrequent listens, so that the peaks and troughs of the Scorch Trio's rugged topography are better able to retain their moments of unexpected alien beauty.
