First off, Pelt was the group that brought guitarist Jack Rose (RIP) to underground music aficionado’s attention. And even if the group didn’t really have anything to do with the solo, acoustic guitar music Rose would eventually become known for, there’s a persistent sense of drone over his entire career.

The band specialized in simplistic work-ups tied to LaMonte Young’s conception of composition and improvisation. It’s not to say that Pelt was unoriginal, but by the early nineties there was no shortage of this sort of music.

Whether or not Rose became bored with performing as a part of the group is unknown (to me). So he endeavored to reinvent himself as an American Primitive Guitarist. It worked. He was great.

For the one off, home recorded A Stone For Angus MacLise, Pelt doesn’t do too much that could be considered sublimely original, but turns in an album documenting a good time evening.

If familiar with Pelt and its pretty deep discography, the album might sound a bit more sparse then other efforts. But dedicating the album to Angus MacLise might have something to do with that.

Before there was Mo Tucker, MacLise drummed in the Velvet Underground. He apparently, high tailed it to the East pursuing some sort of enlightenment through writing lame poems and studying a culture that wasn’t his own. When he came back to the States, though, he found the Velvets to be a more entertaining ensemble then previously. Of course, his request to rejoin the group was rebuffed – and thankfully so. Who would have sang “I’m Sticking with You?”

Anyway, what Pelt does on this assumed tribute is to pare down its instrumentation to harmonium and a few tangential instruments. Split into to sides – as a record is wont to do – each effort focuses on that tiny, almost accordion sounding drone emanating from the harmonium. Getting by with such a simple formula wouldn’t warrant comment, though.

And while it’d be easy to allow those few notes to issue forth, unadorned, layering sounds that some might not find musical in a traditional sense atop of it all results in some spooky horror show soundtrack. That description might be levied on either cut from Pelt. It almost doesn’t make any difference even if the second side includes a wider swath of instrumentation. Even that, though, can’t make twenty minutes of almost nothing seem like a good way waste one’s hearing.