In a recent Guitar Player feature, Tim Brady jokes about the fact that Brahms never wrote stuff for electric guitar, ironically justifying a relentless quest for the instrument’s potential residency in the empire of commonly accepted “serious” music. This double set — part of an ongoing series — is an intriguing proposition in that sense. On a compact disc lie six of the twenty-four Frames; on the DVD the same compositions (“for electric guitar, electronics, samples, multitrack technology and video”) are accompanied by Martin Messier’s experimental imagery, which comprise computerized abstraction and disfigurement of relatively normal films, such as a woman walking with difficulty in a snowy town.

Brady recorded all the parts himself, a herculean task that — in his words — sometimes requires years just to find the right tone for a short cut. Unluckily, the artistic consequence of this sort of agony is only partially agreeable. Chilly linear materials and pitilessly pitch-transposed counterpoints summon up a combination of frozen heaven and dissonant hell, ultimately negating a definite position to the work. Think of a motorized King Crimson zombie to have an idea of the totally bloodless interlocking of different lines, sporadically escorted by peripheral undercurrents. Angular arpeggios, overdriven alien themes, plucked clusters and the obsessive repetitiveness generated by dozens of superimposed axes are perceived as rather conventional anomalies that don’t enlarge our database for this field, resulting interesting in spurts — and utterly unemotional.

Where the Canadian really excels is in the creation of atmospheric sonorities and breathtaking milieus. Massive booming, enigmatic suspensions, evocative plateaus where the possibilities of a treated source are multiplied until the starting sound grows into a monster capable of killing, but also striking points of marvelous resonance, stunning us for a few seconds. Too bad that those dreams are often broken by the recurrence of a cerebral kind of assault that situates the record in the infinite archive of “over-average-yet-unmemorable” releases, in total disproportion to the incontestable compositional effort.

It’s oddly fascinating to hear distorted, Van Halen-like guitar riffs deconstructed into tightly wound electroacoustic compositions. Lacking drums and bass, and trading the grit of rock clubs for the pristine studio, an atmosphere of reverberated coldness pervades this CD/DVD set. Brady is a master technician, creating endless textural variety from layered guitars with time-warping effects, whipping up shimmering walls of electric teardrops. The CD’s tracks reappear on the DVD, accompanied by Messier’s swirling, jittery videos—mostly abstract, but includ­ing some manipulated film loops of Montréal scenes, a perfect complement to the music. 8/10

24 Frames est une série de 24 pièces pour guitare composées au fil des dernières années. 24 Frames: Trance est le premier d’un triptyque qui documentera l’ensemble de ce répertoire. Cette première sortie est en fait le dernier volet du triptyque et présente les pièces Frame 19 à Frame 24, toutes pour guitare électrique, électroniques et vidéo (par Martin Messier) — d’où le format CD+DVD. Les vidéos de Messier sont intéressantes dans le genre abstrait, mais pas essentielles (outre peut-être sur Frame 24: 57 Ways of Playing Guitar). Brady livre des performances virtuoses et déploie des trésors techniques. Ce disque le place (encore une fois) sur la même marche que Fred Frith et Nick Didkovsky. 24 Frames: 57 Ways of Playing Guitar, en particulier, lui mérite le titre de guitar hero. Un disque splendide qui va à l’essence de l’esthétique de Brady. J’attends les deux autres volets avec impatience.