Experimentation has rarely sounded as inviting as it does on Somewhere Good

Carrying out similar unexpected deviations in tone, mood and musical reference points within a single album (or even a single song) without crumbling into a disjointed mess is a considerable rarer phenomenon, one that Tara Clerkin Trio refine to near-perfection on the often spellbinding Somewhere Good.

The Bristol-rooted band are named in the classic matter-of-fact fashion of a jazz outfit. However, this is far from a case of a titular star basking in the spotlight while the less prominent sidekicks toil away in the shadows. Somewhere Good is built on a symbiosis between equally crucial contributors, so deeply entwined and telepathically attuned that it’s often impossible to tell who plays what, and whether certain sections of the album feature the band playing ‘live’ or present the results of a complex process of looping and sampling.

The jazz traces that infused the trio’s previous releases (debut album from 2020 and two subsequent EPs) crop up occasionally on Somewhere Good, notably during the lopsided dialogue for piano and clarinet that “Ups & Downs” blooms into, before the tune takes a typically unlikely but thrilling turn towards minimalist beats and disembodied choral cooing. However, we’re far past the point where the band could readily be distilled down to any kind of satisfactory stylistic shorthand.

Drop into any random section of Somewhere Good, and you may encounter pungently smoky traces of Bristol’s trip-hop legacy (the wonderfully woozy “Lazy Daisy”, the easy-going lope of which is deliciously offset by the trouble lurking in the lyrics). Elsewhere, there are loop-fuelled avant-pop soundscapes, such as the unstoppable melancholy forward-momentum of the melodica-enriched title track, a slow-motion masterclass in finding a fresh interpretation of funkiness, alongside ambient minimalism (the see-sawing canter of “Lake Walk”). The superbly beguiling “There Was a Nice Sunset” resembles a patchwork of mismatched motifs that suddenly make perfectly logical sense when superimposed on to a relentlessly repeated, foreboding drum pattern, resulting in a haunting flash from an alternative realm where post-rock never calcified into a set of predictable templates.

A cursory listen to, say’ “Lazy Daisy” might suggest that Somewhere Good is characterised by easily digested, horizontal mellowness. However, these predominantly low-lit and brooding tunes pack considerably potent emotional resonance. Just when it feels like “Silently” has reached its peak, the haunting (and haunted) track blossoms into a deeply moving minimalist piano melody that both underlines the references to sickness and allusions of grief in the lyrics and instantly releases the tune from any easy (if quite apt) comparison to such past Bristol heroes as Portishead. A duet between Tara Clerkin and Sunny Joe Paradisos (the trio is completed by Sunny’s brother Patrick Benjamin), “Slow Island” could almost pass as sleek nocturnal pop ala The xx, were it not for a study dub bassline reminiscent of Jah Wobble’s work on PIL’s Metal Box and lyrics that catalogue the contemporary affliction (rarely touched upon in pop music) of being priced out of a beloved hometown through a process gentrification.

It’s impressive enough to create a communally meshed sound that manages to balance the richness of densely layered detail with plenty of the alluring spaces between the notes that emphasise the hypnotic potential of repetition. That the genre-agnostic, collage-minded stylistic promiscuity and unfailingly indulged experimental instincts (there doesn’t seem to be a sound that the trio aren’t willing to shake, twist or bend here) are coupled with genuinely substantial songcraft is what makes Somewhere Good such a startlingly accomplished treat.