Mute Duo - Migrant Flocks (2023) Hi-Res

Migrant Flocks is the third album from Chicago pedal steel player Sam Wagster and percussionist Tyler Rowe, and their second for American Dreams after 2020’s Lapse of Passage. Although mostly sticking to the percussion and pedal steel parameters that have graced two previous albums, the band do add some vibraphone, drum machine, and programming touches to the sound, which shifts things away from the dustier audio of Lapse of Passage into a thicker and more physical sound. Added bass from fellow Chicagans Douglas McCombs and Andrew Scott Young also brings texture, with the wonderful flute of Emma Hospelhorn on The Ocean Door lending a new dimension to the music.

The Ocean Door spins the paranoid sound of songs like Lapse in Passage’s Derived from Retinas and adds space, lots of space, and moisture. Whereas the latter’s sound could be from the bridge pickup of a guitar, with plenty of metal and snarl, The Ocean Door’s pedal steel refrain is soaked in ambience and reverb, and the string sound is thicker. Rowe’s percussion here creates glints and shards of light, while Hospelhorn’s flute accentuates the woozy nature of the piece. In the midsection, things accelerate briefly but dramatically, with the flute and steel notes shifting up the register and Rowe adding more clout to his drums.

Songs like Trust Lanes disregard the airy feel of opener Sunken Light and The Ocean Door and replace it with a neon-lit, more urgent and energised sound. Rowe’s percussion and Wagster’s pedal steel blend here with electronic sounds and an almost (but not quite) incongruous vibraphone, which eases the drama briefly in places. Night Guides is in a similar vein but starts steadily, with a lulling, pulsing intro, before a beefy pedal steel line catches up with Rowe’s driving drumline, and the whole thing accelerates rapidly into a panicked, heady climax. Both songs are happy to delve into the more frenetic area of the duo’s sound, but Night Guides pushes it much further until the wheels come off, and it ends in a chaotic bundle of fuzz. Both are great fun and could grace the violent, strange side of a Nicolas Winding Refn film. Bringing back the dreamier nature of the first two songs is closer Bísrāma, a dreamy, meditative number based around a warm vibraphone line. This lovely piece dispels the chaos of songs like Trust Lanes and Night Guides and brings plenty of scuzzy space into an atmosphere akin to a lullaby, with electronics and organ gradually filling the gaps. Working as a bookend with the similarly tranquil Sunken Light, Bísrāma is a clean and calm way to finish an intriguing and versatile record of real creative endeavour.