Nut Club by Free Range Rat: A Wild Ride Through Free Jazz Chaos
Let’s get one thing straight—Free Range Rat’s Nut Club isn’t your grandma’s jazz record (unless your grandma is super into avant-garde chaos, in which case, cool grandma). Released in 2006 on Clean Feed Records and hailing from Portugal, this album feels like a fever dream where bebop met free jazz and forgot how to behave. The lineup reads like a rogue’s gallery of experimental talent: Douglas Yates on clarinet, Shawn McGloin holding down the double bass, George Schuller smashing drums, Eric Hipp blowing saxophone, and John Carlson wailing on trumpet.
Now, let’s dive into some tracks because if I tried to unpack all of them, we’d be here till next Tuesday.
First up: “The Satellites Are Spinning.” This tune kicks off the album with what can only be described as controlled pandemonium. It’s like someone dumped a bag of marbles onto an escalator—noisy, unpredictable, but weirdly mesmerizing. Yates’ clarinet squawks around like it’s auditioning for a cartoon soundtrack while Schuller’s drumming keeps things teetering on the edge of collapse. Somehow, though, it works. You’ll either love it or want to throw your headphones out the window. Either way, you won’t forget it.
Then there’s “So Much Trouble In The World,” which might as well have been titled “So Much Trouble In My Brain After Listening To This.” Don’t let the title fool you—it’s not about global politics or existential dread (or maybe it is? Who knows with these guys). What stands out here is Eric Hipp’s saxophone work. He sounds like he’s having an argument with himself, except both sides are winning. Throw in Carlson’s trumpet adding layers of frantic commentary, and you’ve got a track that feels like overhearing a heated debate at a café where everyone speaks different languages. Chaotic? Sure. But also oddly compelling.
One thing that sticks with me about Nut Club is how unapologetically messy it is. There’s no pretense of perfection; instead, it’s raw, jagged, and alive. These guys aren’t playing music—they’re wrestling with it. And honestly? That’s kinda refreshing. Too many jazz albums feel like they’ve been ironed flat. Not this one. This is jazz with its hair sticking up in every direction, wearing mismatched socks, and laughing too loud at its own jokes.
Here’s the kicker: after listening to Nut Club, I realized something profound. Life itself is basically just one long free jazz session. Some days you’re the clarinet, trying desperately to stay on track while everything else falls apart. Other days, you’re the drums, frantically keeping time even when nobody else seems to care. By the end of the album, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to applaud or take a nap. Maybe both.
Final verdict? If you’re looking for easy-listening background music, keep walking. But if you crave something that challenges your ears and brain cells, Nut Club will hit the spot like spicy tapas on a rainy Lisbon evening. Just don’t blame me if it makes you question all your life choices.
