Funny enough, The International Disassociation Of: is actually characterized by its external cohesion. The latest Denver-based composer Aaron Dooley is an entirely improved excursion, wherein the maestro and player lays down tranquil bass lines which his compatriates follow like the flight patterns of birds flocking to an oasis. Possibly inspired by life in the West among great, heaving rocky ramparts and oceans of scrub under vast plains of blue mist, the album has a somewhat arid feel to it. A parched, almost rasping quality- a quality that gives it a certain ambition- driving to divine a source of sustenance. It is not desperate in its wandering search but rather determined. Aaron and his cohort know the destination they seek is out there; they're just not sure where it is quite yet. It's like most classic adventures; there is never any doubt that our heroes will reach Shambhala- the intrigue is how they arrive and the paths they take to get there. Through winding grooves, astonishing aural arrangement layered in surprising accession, and an overwhelming sense of perseverance, Aaron and his crew glide through devil-eyed choke points like the wind through the slots of a fence and find renewed freedom in every obstacle they hurdle. Nothing they encounter is more formidable or mighty than their unity of design, an impulse towards independence, shared in stride. E pluribus unum a la unanimous execution of intent- the dissolving of one consciousness into many and many into one. Sometimes to find your way, you have to get a little lost first. Lost in each other- in time - in space.
