Pivotal guitarist of the New Zealand scene, Roy Montgomery is one of those musicians whose work, in the shadow of any media hype, has traced a lineage very much his own to the instrument, widely and rightly revered by illustrious people like Grouper or Dry Cleaning. A cult figure, if such a thing still exists. Active since the early 80’s, he was involved through the Pin Group in the beginnings of the mythical Flying Nun, essential label in the dissemination of music from his country of origin, and already in the following decade in the first releases of the North American Kranky, through the compilation ‘This Is Not a Dream’ by Dadamah, two Dissolve albums with Mark Heaphy and the beginning of a mostly solitary trajectory – exceptions made to psychonauts like Bardo Pond or Flying Saucer Attack – that he himself attributes to his condition of only child. Which may well be just idiosyncrasy. Vision.
After his solo debut with ‘Scenes From The South Island’ in 1995 – reissued in 2019 on Liz Harris tcp Grouper’s Yellow Electric, responsible for several of the guitarist’s albums – Montgomery released what is still one of his most memorable albums, the blessed ‘Temple IV’. Reflecting the death of his then partner, ‘Temple IV’ sought to reconnect with that same relationship, in a cathartic act of emotional resonance that would come to outline his very own approach to the six strings: the reverb, circular melodies, unusual tunings, elliptical renditions that keep crossing each other, a spectral melancholy, sometimes haunted, echoes of spaces and memories that sustain themselves in a diffuse and misty aura. From there, at the pace of restraint, he went on recording for labels like VHF, Grapefruit or the aforementioned Yellow Electric, leaving precious and still undiscovered tracks on albums like ‘Silver Wheel of Prayer’, the split with Grouper and already last year with ‘Chamera Melancholia’.
Album (again) haunted by death. Recorded in the wake of the passing of her companion of two decades, it deals with loss in a way that is as poetic as it is mesmerising, as if projecting the eternal presence of those who touch us. Instead of grief. Cycles. Given the rarity with which he performs live, this appearance of Montgomery at ZDB turns out to be one of those very special events, without any kind of more or less contrived hype, but with all the truth that it may entail. BS
