Think of the Tango, think of Brazil… and you think 
          of rays of sunlight piercing the pristine northern birchwood forests, 
          as elk meander through the conifers, and salmon splash in the… what 
          d’ya mean, "no"? Yet strange as it might seem, the only remaining 
          live group carrying the torch for "New Tango" don’t come from 
          the rainforests of Brazil, but the pineforests of northerly Sweden. 
        
        
        And no one is more passionate about New Tango than 
          NTO founder and front-man Per Storby. I asked this mohican-cut evangelist 
          about the instrument that’s the heart and soul - not to mention the 
          main melody-line - of New Tango… the bandoneon. "Well, yes, it’s 
          kind-of like an accordion or concertina – a BIG concertina! It was invented 
          in C19th Germany, to play the hymns in small Lutheran churches who didn’t 
          have an organ, or couldn’t afford one. Sailors and missionaries took 
          it to South America – where it immediately went straight into the whorehouses, 
          of course! From moral superiority to moral depravity in one quick jump. 
          Then it was taken-up into the tango orchestras, but with a minor problem.. 
          it’s such a bloody clumsy instrument to play, they had to slow the tempo 
          of the tango down specially for the bandoneon players!". Per fell 
          in love with the sound of the instrument from hearing records – "I 
          just knew I wanted to play that sound!" - but only realised later 
          that being clumsy to play was only half his problems. No one even makes 
          bandoneons any more, and no one could show him how to play one either. 
          A long search tracked-down an aged second-hand instrument, and he figured 
          out the double button-boards for himself.
        
        Almost all the material the quintet perform these days 
          is original – but lurking in the background is the guiding spirit of 
          the genre’s originator, the legendary New Tango king, Astor Piazzolla. 
          Indeed, his spirit (the man himself died over a decade ago) took a posthumous 
          turn around the stage for one number at B2 – a piece Piazzolla had written 
          as a farewell present to his own quintet, when the time came for them 
          to disband. "We were in Brazil last year, and doing the sound-check 
          for our gig, when they told me that we had visitors – the relatives 
          of Astor Piazzolla. When I said what we were going to play… well, you 
          could see they were a bit uneasy about it! So we played it – just for 
          them. At the end, there was a HUGE cheer, and I knew we’d passed the 
          test" Per explained… with the faintest hint of a nervous tremor 
          still lingering in his voice.
        
        Sharing the melody-line honours for the ninety minute 
          set was fellow Swede and violinist Livet Nord. Some of the material 
          being heard was so new that it’s "work in development", and 
          doesn’t even have official song-titles yet. Livet’s soaring strings 
          illustrated clearly what other critics have said openly – there are 
          some strong overtones of classical and jazz in the NTO’s unique sound. 
          One of her semi-improvised solos had a hint of the spirit of Vaughan 
          William’s "The Lark Ascending" – with all of the brilliance, 
          exhilaration and technical mastery stunningly turned-round into a wholly 
          new form. In an unusual way the NTO are akin to contemporary classical 
          ballet – steadfastly remaining true to a revered tradition, yet pushing 
          the envelope in every direction. Another untitled number, unashamedly 
          introduced as being influenced by baroque music, featured a multi-track 
          playback of different strings, against which the live musicians added 
          their own contributions. The audacious result makes a "new tango" 
          out of the archaic form of the Chaconne – but here there are Chaconnes 
          of all eras!! We start in the C17th, with Josef Kallerdahl’s sumptuous 
          string bass establishing the bass-line, and slowly golden melody-threads 
          begin to interweave between bandoneon and violin, suggesting Pachelbel 
          or Purcell. Tomas Gustavsson wrestled to add delicacy from a somewhat 
          thrashed-sounding piano but soon the genteel control of the "baroque" 
          form gives way to an unstoppable wildness that fused ideas suggestive 
          of John Adams "Shaker Loops" with orgiastic mayhem, as though 
          the periwigged fops had cast-off their crinolines for a boozy bacchanal 
          to Beelzebub’s doorstep… before slipping back, as if caught with their 
          trousers down, into the delicate accuracy with which it all began.
        
        Rhythmic drive in this percussion-less line-up was 
          ably driven along by Peter Gran on guitar, whose seamless accompaniment 
          was sometimes given special permission to solo. Especially welcome was 
          a lunatic guitar-bass duet that galloped along like a Bach two-part 
          invention after a very large spliff, which expanded to become a kind 
          of "Tango Fugue" with melody lines being rapidly back-passed 
          between the whole group like a skilful rugby team on a top-form attack. 
          Even so, the classic sound of New Tango is more wistful and plangent, 
          and this is how they went out. Storby’s self-acquired bandoneon style 
          is uniquely vocal – he plays only on the "pull" strokes, pausing 
          to close the bellows in a breath-like instant before playing the next 
          line, with the poise and delicacy of the most heart-tugging and breathless 
          chanteuse.
        
        The whole thing was sweetly set-off by a lush warm 
          PA system at B2, and superlative sound management. Apart from the barman 
          who decided to use the ice-crushing machine during the slow double-bass 
          solo, you could’ve heard a pin drop, and the NTO had the audience eating 
          of their hands long before even half-way.