This short (17 minute) EP is a sort of coming out party for guitarist Terrence McManus. Released as 2010 was ending, it advertises that this upcoming year might just be his. The New York based musician can be heard in Gerry Hemingway's Quintet, Kermit Driscoll's Trio, and the Herb Robertson Ensemble. Hemingway's label will be releasing a duo with the drummer/percussionist called Below The Streets (Auricle Records, 2011). Each of these five brief tracks are sketches of ideas and platforms for McManus' improvisations and extended techniques. Technique, as they say, on loan from God. Well, maybe Keith Rowe and Derek Bailey too. He can present simple ringing tones (as on 'Double River') that shimmer and sooth, sounding not unlike a harp, or crush and cripple strings (as on 'SOL') with the best of the noisy avant- gardists. His talents are not as a chameleon of style as much as an assembler or collector of sounds. He plays with a bit of ambient noise here, plus minimalist improvisation. McManus doesn't shriek notes as much as he tends to hold back, ladling sound and a bit of feedback, all for your consideration. -allaboutjazz.com Guitarists have been making sounds more like things other than guitars (or even other instruments) for some years. Many ardent experimentalists keep a handle on traditional reference points while hewing to a notably sparse battery of tools and effects. Lately Terrence McManus, here in solo and duo settings, is exploring a sonic vocabulary that amalgamates the cool minimalism of a sonic cloud chamber with bursts of the impassioned poetry of a seasoned flamenco or blues practitioner and raw, fascinating sounds drawn from light industry and scientific inquiry or inspired by deep nature. Brooklyn EP sets up as a sampler of rough-cut fieldwork - curious teasers, nothing terrifying - that pack unusual forms and textures into visceral, stimulating fabrics. Initial impressions and analogies are: "Hive" (plucked cello with buzzy feedback gives way to angular deep reed-like lines); "Ancient Dialects" (scratchy balloon rubbings, then above-the-bridge arpeggios and mewling 'e-bowing'); "Glitch Chorale" weaves increasingly urgent white noise gaps between deeply reverberant unstrung strums; "Sol" beats a fidgety tambour and caterwauls eerily into a tapping dissolve. In the poetic, flowing "Double River" a carillon of folksy open bell-beats melts in a downward spiral to looped drones that evolves as an overlaid quilt of strums. Before the wake-up coda of soft, blunt tappings, the reverie drifts toward Ives' "Housatonic at Stockbridge". -excerpt from The New York City Jazz Record.