Each Eye A Path

up to nil
the salmon of knowledge
latin mastock
the forgotten puppeteer
my mrs t
angel's got a lotus
serves you rice
the night we never met
venus monkey
left big

reviewed by roisin moriarty

i was listening to this album recently while travelling by train from blackfriars to east croydon. the south london landscape was bleak beneath late november clouds, the rows of terraced houses squatting in front of stark industrial sites, the whole scene filled with a rawness that can't help but shape the consciousness of anyone brought up in such a place - whether they realise it or not. as i listened to the album it occurred to me that there were elements of that starkness and rawness that complemented beautifully the scene i saw before me. there's a harshness in this album that creates a perfect soundscape for the grit of the real london that the tourists don't see, coupled with a sudden unexpected but powerful beauty, like southwark cathedral standing majestically amid the cluster of buildings that the trains endlessly trundle passed. as i listened and watched i began to feel that this album couldn't have been composed by someone who wasn't brought up in such a metropolis. it was as though mick karn had created a soundtrack for my home and each composition was evocative of some image or memory of the city i've known my whole life.

i've been wracking my brains and i can't think of an album that has so completely captured my imagination, taking a firm hold and refusing to let go. admittedly, i had played it a few times before it finally had me under its spell but it's often the case with karn's music that it isn't immediately accessible. you can't just sit back and let it drift over you, it demands your full attention and deserves nothing less. it's not exactly easy listening and it's the antithesis of all that bland, candyfloss pop that assaults our ears every time we turn on the tv or radio. it's music to make you think. to be honest, when you first hear it, it may be music to make you think "what on earth am i listening to?".

the opening track, "up to nil", is so taught with pent up, negative energy that it's almost like a slap in the face. the bass line, in karn's inimitable style, sounds somehow tortured and the vocal is so deep, bitter and twisted it verges on alarming; making you wonder just what in the world he went through to be capable of producing such an effect. this is just about as far from a happy song as it's possible to go without falling into the abyss and it has me completely mesmerised every time i hear it.

the almost brutal mood abates a little as the following two tracks, "the salmon of knowledge" and "latin mastock", lead into the beautifully poignant "the forgotten puppeteer". with simple keyboards and gorgeous clarinets, i find myself wondering just who this puppeteer was and what happened to him (or her?). how did he get lost and will he ever be found again? even though there are no words there is a narrative created much like that of a classical composer telling a story through the skilful arrangement of his score. the track is so wonderfully evocative that i find myself longing to know the story behind it.

the slow, thoughtful "my mrs t" gives way to one of the highlights of the album, the upbeat and kinda funky "angel's got a lotus" (is he referring to an exotic flower or a flash car, i wonder?). the bass takes the lead here, giving the track a wonderfully jazzy but laid back feel and lightening the overall tone a little. it builds up layers that continue, but in a starkly contrasting style, into the cleverly titled "serves you rice", a track consisting solely of organ and who knows how many bass lines. this one really took a few spins for me to get my head 'round it and even now, i still keep picking up nuances that i'm sure i didn't hear the last time i played it. the richness and depth of the sound takes some getting used to but it's a truly unique piece of work and incredibly well arranged.

"the night we never met" is a composition that you could almost melt into. it's soothing and melodic while still retaining the sophistication and individualism that we've come to expect of karn. however it does contain the one single element that jars with me. i'm not at all keen on the sweet, breathy style of the female vocalist (maya) and i feel that her part could have been better taken by some sort of keyboard or woodwind riff, or maybe a sample of some description. but seeing as that type of voice has never appealed to me, that's very much a personal, subjective opinion.

"venus monkey" is another highlight for me. just as upbeat as "angel's got a lotus", two separate bass lines seem to be carrying contrasting melodies but they merge beautifully to create an amazing sound that, much like the whole album really, bares no relation to anything karn has previously produced. we're brought gently back down into a calm, melodic mood with the final track "left big", a composition that wouldn't sound at all out of place on jansen/barbieri's other worlds in a small room. this is music to meditate to, with a keyboard melody that manages to sound opulent and simple in turns and some skilfully placed samples that lend a soothing, almost otherworldly atmosphere. the music finally rolls gently away amid the sound of rain, waves and distant thunder. after such a stark introduction it's as if the raw, uncompromising emotion of "up to nil" has finally been soothed away.

i have just one more superlative to describe each eye a path: awesome.

reviewed by craig peacock

a platter of instantly hummable rubbery bass riffs is probably what would prick the ears of many, but instead mick karn has chosen to follow his muse and his heart. as the artist-written sleeve notes suggest, each eye a path is ten highly personal soundscapes, each emitting an emotional atmosphere that is both infectious and melancholic.

from any point of view, this is karn's most mature and adventurous work to date. it's not as refined as his earlier albums but that is a good thing, he has left it open-ended and a little ragged in places. although there are separate pieces with individual titles, the distinctions between each track are somewhat blurred, it melts into one fascinating whole that is extremely filmic. the exception to the rule may be "the forgotten puppeteer", which cradles assorted wind instruments, all recorded at close-mic, inside a four-note piano motif that pulls on the heart strings so strongly it induces tears and thoughts of all that may have gone wrong in past relationships.

admirable is mick's restraint with his signature instrument. he could confirm his existing audience and maybe win new fans by serving up 10 pieces of feta-funk à la "his box" or "bestial cluster" but he seems to actively rebel against that, eager to try something that will challenge himself and the listener. karn has always struck me as being an intuitive and naïve musician. it is these positive qualities that endear his music to many. even when he dives head first into water that many feel he shouldn't ("answer" from dreams of reason produce monsters seems to be a common target), the results are so open-hearted and sincere that one cannot help but be moved.

this is an album you won't hear on the radio. you should take it in though. take it into your heart and your mind. it will reward you.

reviewed by takaharu hayakawa - bass magazine - mar 01

the impression of his first solo album, made while he was with japan, was so strong that i didn't get much impact from his subsequent work. but this album, his 5th, is pushing through his own world in both playing and composition. his typical track is built around a unique bass pattern and rhythm, rather than melody or solo, at the core. but in this album, it's amazing how it goes to a deeper world without making the pattern or rhythm into an extension of elements. there are also two tracks that he sings, and some don't even use bass. the 4th track consists of simple piano patterns and short phrases of a clarinet that go in and out. it got to my heart deeply.

of course there are plenty of his striking bass lines. it might give you a kind of revelation if you are feeling the limit of your phrasing. but i'm just astonished with his chord sense and line ideas. (i'm sure it comes out naturally for him without much struggle.)

reviewed by roger newell - guitarist - mar 01

a tasteful slice of karn's unique playing style and song construction. there are just a couple of vocals but as ever it's the bass playing that captures the imagination. it's exclusively his wal bass in use throughout. they make a formidable team and his fans will be delighted with this collection.

but this album gives far more than a few exercises with fretless bass guitar - these tracks are soundscape ideas and one in particular provokes the atmosphere of the australian outback rather than the oriental leanings associated with the past. it's actually created with karn on keyboards and clarinets.

the tracks cover a period between 1995 and 1999, yet their quality is unmistakable. if you set your own trends then fashion is something that you dictate not follow or go out of. occasionally catchy. definitely an interesting experience.

4 out of 5

reviewed by tom ridge - the wire - apr 01

recorded at intervals between 1995-99, mick karn's new solo release combines free-flowing ambient textures with vivid bass virtuosity. the structure of most of these tracks reveals the nature of their origin, composed by karn on bass then worked on and expanded later. they tend to be open-ended, sounding semi-improvisational, often overlaid with dense layers of rhythm and sound. although karn's playing has a definite individuality (a quality his characterless croon, heard on the opening "up to nil", doesn't share), it sounds overly fussy, needlessly involved, so that many of the tracks seem to be running to a standstill.

reviewed by e bradman - bass player - may 01

a member of the first rank of modern fretless players, cyprus-born mick karn first gained notoriety in the late '70s for his distinctive sound with the glam-pop band japan. his unconventional approach, described by one bandmate as "bootsy from morocco", has served him well on sessions with artists such as mark isham, kate bush, joan armatrading, and nusrat fateh ali kahn. tooth mother, his forth solo album, arrived in '95 - and with it a period of personal upheaval, well represented by the spare, electronic textures and generally depressing soundscapes of each eye a path.

at first listen, the album is short on impressive low-end than any previous karn outing; in fact, three of the ten tracks have no bass. mick also handles clarinet, keyboard, vocal, programming, and guitar duties, occasionally joined by soulful maya, drum programmer steve jansen, and (on one track) organist apache 61. careful listeners will be rewarded, however, with karn's singular use of his customs wal's thick growl and trademark mwah on tracks such as "angel's got a lotus" and "serves you rice". those accustomed to his overlapping, double-tracked melody lines and ostinatos will enjoy "latin mastock", and the radically harmonics that open "venus monkey" are pure karn. though path's arrangements are sparse throughout, karn manages to imbue them with a minor-key lushness all their own.

overall, the album's middle eastern-tinged, sci-fi atmospherics are a sobering reflection from one of our most individual bass voices. let's hope the next album doesn't take as long - and that it reflects some of mick's sunnier sides.

reviewed by paul sutton-reeves - record collector - may 01

talented japan bassist karn has not been idle since the band's demise in 1983, this being his fifth solo outing alongside collaborations with a host of respected musicians. but just as karn's profile in japan was always in the shadow of ex-band-leader david sylvian's, so it has been with their respective solo careers. each eye a path seems unlikely to change that.

from the opener "up to nil", it's recognisably karn - slippery bass, squawking saxophones, an avant-garde feel to proceedings. committed karn-watchers will not be surprised by anything here, but nor will they be disappointed. it's all very much in the tradition of ambient offerings from musicians at the innovative end of the rock spectrum - think ex-crimson, roxy, etc. it's fitting that karn's half-spoken, off-kilter vocals on "latin mastock" bring to mind those of another art traveller, brian eno.

there's a guest slot for former japan drummer steve jansen, but no run-out for sylvian, despite having settled their differences over japan's 1991 comeback album going out under the "rain tree crow" moniker. that means there is nothing here like "buoy" or "every colour you are" - a pity.

it's an embellisher of others' visions that karn shines brightest - in the meantime, this is a worthwhile reminder of his gifts.