Laura Cocks’ new album displays the malleable nature sound can achieve when the symbiotic relationship between body and instrument isn’t bound by structure.

     The relationship between an artist and their instrument cannot be put into question. It is both romantic and practical in nature, because, as the tool they use for expression (and work), it truly must become an extension of their body, customized to the best of their abilities and limitations. The connection becomes so intimate, that even if someone with “more chops” gets to play it, what comes out just doesn’t sound right, no matter how good they are.

     In their new album, flutist Laura Cocks, shows us what this symbiotic relationship can achieve when both parts are not bound by one and other, but rather are allowed to move with total freedom while still being intertwined. The result is a serpentine chimeric creature made of metal, skin and breath, that emits different sounds out of every pore in their body.

     FATHM -a joint release between labels Relative Pitch and Out Of Your Head Records- differs from Laura’s previous album, 2022’s field anatomies (Carrier Records), in that it is a completely improvised oeuvre and it’s also a solo effort. FATHM is successfully expressive, fueled by a rapid-burning intensity that only vulnerability and spontaneity can spark, which is not to say that, when performing written pieces, Laura’s delivery is cold or detached, because even then, there’s raw energy all over. Perhaps that’d be a good adjective to describe Cock’s work, but it’d still fall short. 

     What we hear in this album, could be referred to as extended techniques, but it goes beyond that. While we can enjoy an array of different approaches to playing the flute, it's not only about the notes and textures coming out of it; it's also about the clicks, the breaths -and the lack thereof-, the pauses, lips smacking, the frantic exhalations that come out of Laura and how what we sometimes hear are Laura's vociferations being fused with the sounds of the flute itself. In that sense, this is a very visceral -and very guttural- experience, not only because these are raw, improvised pieces, but because it lets us hear a lot of the bodily sounds most performers would avoid, reminding us of the very real, and very human, presence behind the instrument.