Instrumental music has its limits as a approach of advocating for social change, and Tashi Dorji is aware of this. However he isn’t a man who’s gotten the place he’s at present by backing down when issues get onerous. In spite of everything, the guitarist found out the way to make it from his birthplace within the tiny South Asian nation of Bhutan to the U.S., the place he’s lived for the previous quarter century. Then, Dorji topped that feat by supporting a household by taking part in improvised music, which he bought into via the facet door by scouring the web for shared information of free improvisation whereas rooming with anarchist punks. Dorji doen’t simply advocate for perseverance—he perseveres. So, let’s be aware the intentions signaled by his titles and take into account how they could affect this LP’s sounds.
The title of We Will Be Wherever The Fires Are Lit places it on the market instantly; Dorji is down with resistance. If you happen to approve of colonialism, capitalism or every other motion/system that places precise or metaphorical boots on necks, his music desires to make you nervous. The remorseless churn of “Inconceivable Friendship” underscores the titular refusal to only get alongside, and the broad intervallic leap that just about immediately knocks “Heart Can’t Maintain…” off observe evokes the precariousness of each day life for much too many individuals.
Woody Guthrie may need put a sticker on his acoustic guitar that mentioned “This Machine Kill Fascists,” however Dorji makes his guitar sound prefer it would possibly really do the job. “Flowers For The Unsung” has an insistent stutter that simply received’t stop, and the low-tech preparations on “New Alerts///////” (the place Dorji places steel clips on his strings) makes his wood instrument sound like a steel field with hassle brewing inside.
The 2020s are a time when many individuals really feel like what they’re doing doesn’t matter. Dorji’s indicators of defiance are a method of claiming that he isn’t giving up, and also you shouldn’t both. [Drag City]
—Invoice Meyer