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It’s late. The thought of some responsibility, some class or job or life changing phone call in the morning bugs you, but now is now, no matter how hazy. Behind you, some two or three dozen large insects litter the pinks of the decorative quilt, while a few more are on their backs, inert, and getting slowly batted toward floor by the pair of cats with a full-pupiled gleam in their eyes. This explains the sweet taste in the air over the last week, the dessicated fiber of a cocoon breaking off from some high corner and entering the room.

Coming from beneath the floor is the skittering of a guitar, the anxious but grateful commentator. Chris Cretella processes images that imply violence, thanks to a particularly snarling fuzz tone at points, but pull the cord for the parachute at the last minute, floating away into thermal currents instead of the more traumatic alternative. From the next room, a torrent; crisp and metallic one second, resonant and thunderous the next. Mike Paolucci steers this weird ship from the throne, emphasising communication with Cretella and deftly avoiding the cliches of the tradition of guitar-drums duos. It would appear at times that the session was visited upon by a swarm of locusts, the quiet hum of an electrical storm, a loud oscillating fan. That sub-vocal wail a pair of cats might emit before violently confronting an insect intruder, perhaps.

But maybe things aren’t as they seemed. I imagine Black Fluff as a kind of sinister cocoon space, where we see the most percussive qualities of the electrified guitar presented alongside the most melodic presentation of a drum kit, and both are somehow more valid than the expected tendencies of each instrument. Maybe one of those insects Thelma the American Shorthair used for batting practice was really named Gregor. Maybe there were never any insects, never any cats, and the sound of them was in fact your bones, as old as they have always been, popping as you shift your weight in bed. If you were famous, this scene would be the key award bait in the biopic of your life.

These things, though, are unplannable. Best to enjoy the dissolution.

-A.M. 9/15


released October 2, 2015

Chris Cretella - guitar
Mike Paolucci - drums

All music by Chris Cretella & Mike Paolucci
Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Chris Cretella
Art & design by Chris Cretella
Fluff fotos by Jill Cretella
Liner notes by Adam Matlock
© & ℗ Quackbaby (ASCAP)



all rights reserved


Chris Cretella New Haven, Connecticut

Chris Cretella is a guitarist, composer and improvisor working out of New Haven, CT. Chris has performed or recorded in the United States and Europe with Joe Morris, Anthony Coleman, Mary Halvorson, Gary Lucas, Rhys Chatham, Carl Testa, Nigel Taylor, Fausto Sierakowski, Andy Allen, Dave Parmelee, Adam Matlock, Mike Paolucci, Brian Slattery, Mike Tepper, Jack Wright and a whole bunch of others. ... more

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