Frances the Mute

A mind-blowing maze of complex melodies, textures, and harmonies, Frances the Mute is almost impossibly precise in its orchestration and execution. There are no songs on the album, at least in the conventional sense, just an endless movement from one idea to another, some sublime, others unbearably intense and hopelessly fragmented. Polyrhythms and countless unexpected tempo changes abound, while extended guitar, trumpet, and sax solos scream from the mix, driven by possessed drumming throughout. There are also cinematic moments where street sounds and snippets of conversation slip into the soundscape and then into the studio murk. Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s voice soars, screeches, wails, howls, and moans, and his sinister non sequitur lyrics, sung in English and Spanish, are difficult to discern much less decipher. This is no casual listen and certainly not for everyone. But for those willing to commit to absorbing 77 minutes of challenging music, there is much to reflect upon in Frances the Mute.