Gruvis Malt - ...with the spirit of a traffic jam...

It's about 6:47pm as you speed down the interstate, staying around 73mph as to not catch the site of any state troopers. A gentle breeze tumbles across your car keeping it a balmy 74 degrees. You have both your driver-side and passenger-side windows rolled down. It's a perfect evening; you haven't a care in the world. You think to yourself, "I need some music." You fumble through your CD case, leafing through page after page, until you finally turn over the page containing …with the spirit of a traffic jam…. Knowing that you've found what you were looking for, you pop the CD into your car stereo anxiously awaiting any utterance of sound from your speakers to break the monotony. As the first track, "Stop", begins to play, delicate guitar and keyboard tones, colored with carefully placed bass notes, float through the cabin of your vehicle. For a moment you are at peace, these ambient sounds mix well with the roar of the wind through your windows. The second track, "Malaise", spins, and for a moment, you are greeted with phased keyboard that swirls around through your speakers - then band kicks in. The guitar and bass slide through a complicated arpeggio, while the drums following along in complete synchronization. As the track continues you are greeted with smooth vocals and clever lyrics accompanied by jazzy-rock styled instrumentation ("futurock", if you will) decorated with a colorful horn section. The whole mixture then gives way to an edgier rock style accompanied by silky hip-hop delivery, without sounding too much like the rap-rock that dominates the radio airwaves. For a moment you are lost in the complicated changes, until you notice that the traffic has stopped in all lanes about 100 yards in front of you. As you slam on your brakes to prevent an accident, the display turns over to track three, "Low Concept / High Maintenance". You are greeted with a similar jazz and rock fusion. Complicated runs and schizophrenic changes propel the song, but fail to lose your interest. As you begin to move along again, this time at a snail's pace, you dive deeper into the disc. "Nonsanity 2037X" is a groovy, hip-hop laden track intermittent with quick, odd changes and varied styles of overdubbed vocals. Just then, you see an opening in a lane that seems to be moving a bit faster than the lane you're in, so you try to jockey for position. You throw your car recklessly into the other lane only find that it stops moving as soon as you get into it. A bit frustrated, you turn your attention back to the stereo where you find the down tempo ballad, "Mr. Prince". Its contemplative vocals seem to throw condemnation at an anonymous individual: "Time will put you in your place. Always courting the angels, but you end up with the devil's lips." As you make your way through one of most accessible anthems on the disc, "Even The Scars Forget The Wounds", the traffic beings to give way. You slowly begin accelerating; maybe you'll make it home sometime tonight? After sitting in traffic for about an hour, it's now dark outside. The moon hangs at about 3 o'clock from your point of view as the CD player finds "Filling In A City". You are immediately drawn into the beat as keyboard is layered with bass and drums, and then layered again with vocals and guitar. The lyrics describe some surreal wasteland that seems all too much like a future fate of America: "The cash machines, they look so proud / The thieves are so happy / And everyone still talks to themselves / The air, it smells like fear / And tonight my nose is open". In a similar vein, but a bit more subdued, "Destination" is the funkiest track you've heard so far, with a beat that forces you to bob your head to the beat. As you encounter the next two songs, "Mobile" and "Aggression", you suddenly feel the need to travel at a greater rate than before. Maybe it's because the tracks display a bit more of a rock edge than the rest… or maybe it's the odd time signatures… but whatever it is, you know it's about time you get off the road. "Then Silence", perhaps the farthest Grüvis Malt travels into the hip-hop mode on the disc, matches the aggravation you feel for the road with Grüvis Malt's own contempt for the music industry. It's the big, bombastic track that gives way to the serene and tranquil closer, "Stop And Go All Ye Faithful". The CD slowly draws to a close, with the final track decaying into nothingness around the 13-minute mark, and you pull off the interstate at your exit. You eject the CD and place it back into your case. As you enjoy the silence and the night air, you wonder if anyone else you know would like the album. "They would have to be open minded and appreciate music," you think to yourself, "…with the spirit of a traffic jam… is not for everyone." In a perfect, world the musicianship and themes mapped out on this album would be rewarded, but unfortunately we live in an erratic and fickle nation - at least as far as music industry goes. You smile to yourself because within all the oddities and idiosyncrasies of the album, you've found your place and hope that others can find theirs. You release the brake and press the gas pedal, pulling off to the right from the stop sign, well on your way home. [www.gruvismalt.com]