What would this poor raconteur do without gentlemen like Herr Ulrich Krieger, saxophone master, who personally send their music in lieu of unwilling (or distracted, or linked to some unsympathetic individual) labels? Danke, Uli.
ULRICH KRIEGER – Up & Down 23
The composition is scored for four superimposed soprano saxophones, handled – of course – by Krieger. It is explained that playing the CD at the extremes of the audible range warrants the best consequence for this particular recording: soft volume to get a sort of microtonal ambient, loud for a deeper psychoacoustic experience characterized by adjacent tones, minimal shifts and subtly spurious vibration according to our position in the room during the playback. Either way, listening to this music results in a calming, comforting practice: the timbral textures modify their fundamental nature just slightly, in non-harmful fashion, and there aren’t surprises of any kind; yet a full hour flies away without us noticing, surrounded as we are by layers of contiguous pitches in different combinations – including solo sections – and several short moments of silence, especially at the beginning and end of the piece. I’ve read rather superficial hints to Phill Niblock’s influence on this work elsewhere but there’s not much here that might resemble, even remotely, an imposing accumulation of neighbouring frequencies such as those created by the minister of all drones, though some of those principles are indeed applied. Up & Down 23 is more of a study, a careful examination of the relations between emitted notes and resonating spaces. An alleviating, under no circumstance overwhelming listen. (B-Boim)
PURE NOISE / ART ZOYD STUDIO – Experiences De Vol #7
This release was received on a CDR and I couldn’t succeed in opening the files containing the liners. What I managed to gather by surfing the web is that the work is a new chapter in an ongoing project started in 2000 under the “Experiences De Vol” denomination. All that remains is describing the sonic content, which equals to say “read above”: noise, noise and again noise, of the thoroughly brutal variety, the kind of uproar which Merzbow would be envious of. Ulrich Krieger opens with possibly the most regimented track (so to speak), in which the saxophone is used as a generator of stormy rumbles in somewhat regulated perniciousness. Kasper T. Toeplitz follows with a rather musical crescendo of distorted droning, whose might is inversely proportional to the innovative qualities of the music, yet this is maybe the album’s best in terms of sheer aural gratification; very dominant indeed. Dror Feiler pulverizes the remnants of our auricular membranes with a lengthy, furious mega-blast that utilizes different gradations of acridness and rage to blow the socks off the listeners, who get caught without shelter by repeated fusillades of nasty substances that, once meshed, almost give an idea of quaking stasis. Other players involved are Carol Robinson, Laurent Dailleau, Jérôme Soudan, Erik Baron and Carl Faia. Overall, a perfect way for starting a litigation with the neighbours or abruptly shutting the communication channels up with your life partner. (Art Zoyd/In-possible)
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Brief Autumnal Writeups
LEVEL – Opale
Translucent yet foggy ambient, ideally in the centre of a Eno/Satie/Basinski triangle, entirely constructed by Barry G. Nicholas (aka Level) with piano samples given to him by Linden Hale and Keith Berry, to which “digital touches and textures” that, according to the moment, enhance or just caress the pre-existing sounds were added. The composer declares that he willingly wanted to preserve the “original spirit of the source material”, and indeed the music's pianistic qualities remain mostly visible throughout. Nicholas does very well in maintaining a level (no pun intended) of gently overhanging sadness most everywhere, avoiding to go astray looking for transcendence, preferring instead to expand the listener’s breathing room through long reverbs, subtly wavering stasis and extremely palatable (and by no means sugary) melodic cells. A classic specimen of recording which is useful both for sheer listening purpose and as fleeting soundtrack for a moody evening, an appreciable concoction of sampled reminiscences and obliquely cuddling electronics. (Spekk)
ANDREY KIRITCHENKO – Misterrious
In the press release Kiritchenko says that his wish was to use acoustic flavours to create a “jazz record (my way of course)”. To do this, he utilized guitar, glockenspiel, mouth harmonica, autoharp, Tibetan bowls and objects, also calling Jason Kahn and Martin Brandlmayr to contribute with drumming in four of the nine tracks (one of them – “Untitled Inquietudes” – is quite fascinating). The compositions are – occasionally - tenderly engaging in an amiable minimalism, with slight echoes of early Tim Story in a couple of instances. Yet, after a short while, the artistic flimsiness is revealed in its meagre nudity: some of these basic sketches could be good enough for children at play but – the obvious sincerity in the initiator’s intention notwithstanding – their staying power might even be inferior to that level. I’d keep two or three chapters, and not without difficulty. If this was meant to be a moment of introspection, it didn’t come out represented that deeply. It’s all too easy and light, despite those much appreciated choirs of cicadas and crickets appearing here and there. A little humanity is fine with me, but serious music is another thing altogether. A jazz record??? (Spekk)
STEVE LACY / JOHN HEWARD – Recessional (For Oliver Johnson)
Although they knew each other since 1975, the pair managed to play together for the first time only on June 20, 2003 in Montréal, at the “Suoni Per Il Popolo” festival. This CD constitutes the certification of that meeting, which occurred exactly one year prior to the saxophonist’s death in 2004. Lacy employs the soprano exclusively, while Heward, besides drums, is also heard on African bells and kalimba. Mentioning the respect that should be given to artists of this calibre is obviously a prerequisite; in this specific circumstance we notice a few suggestions generated by the interplay, especially when Lacy becomes slightly impenitent in extemporaneous treatments of otherwise fairly compliant melodic materials, which he deviates to the point of intermittent waywardness, always with extreme elegance. Heward is discreetly mitigated throughout, mostly leaving the spotlight to the companion yet ever ready to make his presence count through a sensitive, if rather forthright percussive colouring. It might not be a milestone for the ages, but Recessional remains nevertheless an interesting document. (Mode Avant)
JOE MCPHEE / JOHN HEWARD – Voices: 10 Improvisations
Three years later – June 2006 – after the meeting between Heward and Lacy reviewed above, the percussionist (here on drums and kalimba) is found in equally excellent company, Joe McPhee translating fantasies, energies and improvisational zeal via pocket trumpet and – again – soprano saxophone. This sounds like a slightly livelier duet to these ears, which especially appreciate McPhee’s serenely delivered trumpet lines in “Improvisation 3”, symbols of a melodic prescience of sorts that nearly causes the listener to see in advance what the players are going to disclose. The (mildly) unrulier instances are also appealing, if not exactly innovative: perhaps more absorbing for a kind of modern tribal quality than for the effective insight revealed. There’s a feel of uncontaminated honesty that permeates the record, which lets us forgive a few spots where a tad of boredom kicks in, the artists seemingly trapped for a short while in a labyrinth of inescapable, inanimate routine that – for our good luck – is absolutely transitory in comparison to the ever perceptible soul that they own in copious doses. (Mode Avant)
HEMLOCK SMITH & LES POISSONS AUTISTES – Three Times Dead
Combined release from Swiss entities which lets us enjoy its (few) captivating impressions but not understand what, of diverse sides, is the right one. Avant-pop? Intimately “maudit” crooning? A crossbreed of two Davids (namely Bowie and Sylvian) immersed in now bucolic, now noisy soundtracks? Difficult to say. What’s certain is that excessive recitation in a record is not easily digested in this writer’s shelter, unless there’s a serious reason behind it; even less when the speaker/singer’s personality is not particularly exceptional, which is unfortunately the case of Michael Frei, deus ex-machina of Hemlock Smith (although I don’t really know if he’s the only vocalist here). Therefore, what remains is a handful of trailers of relatively low-budget “cinema for the ears” featuring intriguingly “atmospheric” instrumental sections made with, among other sources, bowed guitars, light bulbs and sampled monks. The rest is unnecessary talking and inconsistently theatrical posing, both inexorably leading to tedium. Too bad: this looks like a missed chance by people who certainly possess a suitable technical ground for growing more mature fruits than this. (Everestrecords)
Translucent yet foggy ambient, ideally in the centre of a Eno/Satie/Basinski triangle, entirely constructed by Barry G. Nicholas (aka Level) with piano samples given to him by Linden Hale and Keith Berry, to which “digital touches and textures” that, according to the moment, enhance or just caress the pre-existing sounds were added. The composer declares that he willingly wanted to preserve the “original spirit of the source material”, and indeed the music's pianistic qualities remain mostly visible throughout. Nicholas does very well in maintaining a level (no pun intended) of gently overhanging sadness most everywhere, avoiding to go astray looking for transcendence, preferring instead to expand the listener’s breathing room through long reverbs, subtly wavering stasis and extremely palatable (and by no means sugary) melodic cells. A classic specimen of recording which is useful both for sheer listening purpose and as fleeting soundtrack for a moody evening, an appreciable concoction of sampled reminiscences and obliquely cuddling electronics. (Spekk)
ANDREY KIRITCHENKO – Misterrious
In the press release Kiritchenko says that his wish was to use acoustic flavours to create a “jazz record (my way of course)”. To do this, he utilized guitar, glockenspiel, mouth harmonica, autoharp, Tibetan bowls and objects, also calling Jason Kahn and Martin Brandlmayr to contribute with drumming in four of the nine tracks (one of them – “Untitled Inquietudes” – is quite fascinating). The compositions are – occasionally - tenderly engaging in an amiable minimalism, with slight echoes of early Tim Story in a couple of instances. Yet, after a short while, the artistic flimsiness is revealed in its meagre nudity: some of these basic sketches could be good enough for children at play but – the obvious sincerity in the initiator’s intention notwithstanding – their staying power might even be inferior to that level. I’d keep two or three chapters, and not without difficulty. If this was meant to be a moment of introspection, it didn’t come out represented that deeply. It’s all too easy and light, despite those much appreciated choirs of cicadas and crickets appearing here and there. A little humanity is fine with me, but serious music is another thing altogether. A jazz record??? (Spekk)
STEVE LACY / JOHN HEWARD – Recessional (For Oliver Johnson)
Although they knew each other since 1975, the pair managed to play together for the first time only on June 20, 2003 in Montréal, at the “Suoni Per Il Popolo” festival. This CD constitutes the certification of that meeting, which occurred exactly one year prior to the saxophonist’s death in 2004. Lacy employs the soprano exclusively, while Heward, besides drums, is also heard on African bells and kalimba. Mentioning the respect that should be given to artists of this calibre is obviously a prerequisite; in this specific circumstance we notice a few suggestions generated by the interplay, especially when Lacy becomes slightly impenitent in extemporaneous treatments of otherwise fairly compliant melodic materials, which he deviates to the point of intermittent waywardness, always with extreme elegance. Heward is discreetly mitigated throughout, mostly leaving the spotlight to the companion yet ever ready to make his presence count through a sensitive, if rather forthright percussive colouring. It might not be a milestone for the ages, but Recessional remains nevertheless an interesting document. (Mode Avant)
JOE MCPHEE / JOHN HEWARD – Voices: 10 Improvisations
Three years later – June 2006 – after the meeting between Heward and Lacy reviewed above, the percussionist (here on drums and kalimba) is found in equally excellent company, Joe McPhee translating fantasies, energies and improvisational zeal via pocket trumpet and – again – soprano saxophone. This sounds like a slightly livelier duet to these ears, which especially appreciate McPhee’s serenely delivered trumpet lines in “Improvisation 3”, symbols of a melodic prescience of sorts that nearly causes the listener to see in advance what the players are going to disclose. The (mildly) unrulier instances are also appealing, if not exactly innovative: perhaps more absorbing for a kind of modern tribal quality than for the effective insight revealed. There’s a feel of uncontaminated honesty that permeates the record, which lets us forgive a few spots where a tad of boredom kicks in, the artists seemingly trapped for a short while in a labyrinth of inescapable, inanimate routine that – for our good luck – is absolutely transitory in comparison to the ever perceptible soul that they own in copious doses. (Mode Avant)
HEMLOCK SMITH & LES POISSONS AUTISTES – Three Times Dead
Combined release from Swiss entities which lets us enjoy its (few) captivating impressions but not understand what, of diverse sides, is the right one. Avant-pop? Intimately “maudit” crooning? A crossbreed of two Davids (namely Bowie and Sylvian) immersed in now bucolic, now noisy soundtracks? Difficult to say. What’s certain is that excessive recitation in a record is not easily digested in this writer’s shelter, unless there’s a serious reason behind it; even less when the speaker/singer’s personality is not particularly exceptional, which is unfortunately the case of Michael Frei, deus ex-machina of Hemlock Smith (although I don’t really know if he’s the only vocalist here). Therefore, what remains is a handful of trailers of relatively low-budget “cinema for the ears” featuring intriguingly “atmospheric” instrumental sections made with, among other sources, bowed guitars, light bulbs and sampled monks. The rest is unnecessary talking and inconsistently theatrical posing, both inexorably leading to tedium. Too bad: this looks like a missed chance by people who certainly possess a suitable technical ground for growing more mature fruits than this. (Everestrecords)
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Balloon & Needle Trio
HONG CHULKI / CHOI JOONYONG – Hum And Rattle
Apart from the nice U2 pun of the title, this record – entirely realized with a CD player and a turntable – brings an unrepentant, if somewhat moderate assault on the listener’s ears, subjected to an alternance of remorseless frequencies and episodes of extra-charged “tranquillity” for over 73 minutes. The protagonists manipulate their sources with expertise, obtaining uncommonly surprising sounds whose scope goes from ultrasonically acute stabs and extremely sharp interlocutions to quasi-silent segments where only through headphones we’re able to identify some sort of subterranean activity, often based on the exploration of audibility ranges that are better suited to dogs, cats and bats than humans (one can always improve, though). There’s a method to this music, which is why I particularly appreciate it: the performers are listening attentively even before releasing substances, which gives the idea of partially predetermined materials, although that’s probably not the case. There are abundant doses of pleasantly musical noise that, for once, implies a cleverly planned structure instead of exclusively introducing pain and tediousness, Chulki and Joonyong the representatives of an open-minded aural diplomacy that tends to leave exasperation aside in favour of an almost total sonic acceptability, disintegrated constituents notwithstanding. This release could be seriously cherished by those who welcome the products of Ferran Fages’ acoustic turntables. A well conceived, stimulating work.
JIN SANGTAE – Extensity Of Hard Disk Drive
Sangtae expresses himself through amplified hard disks, in case you missed it. This passion started fifteen years ago while working part-time at Yong-san electronic market, and he has tried both to increase the knowledge and enhance the techniques for making the machines work according to a musical sense. In certain circumstances the composer manages to achieve something that could be (very vaguely) defined as such, especially in terms of rhythmic pulse; yet the problem that is going to push a lot of people away from this CD, I suspect, is that many of the sounds produced are so unforgiving, so harsh, so intrinsically inharmonious that only a sadist might be willing to repeat the experience more than once. In truth there’s no actual music here, but a series of characterless mechanical events, some of them interesting, others just silly or plain dreary. I’m sorry to report that, in general, the contents of Extensity Of Hard Disk Drive are not remarkable enough to justify their release.
CHOI JOONYONG / HONG CHULKI / SACHIKO M / OTOMO YOSHIHIDE – Sweet Cuts, Distant Curves
Despite the above positive review of Hum And Rattle I’m not the least envious of artists expressing themselves with CD players and turntables these days; how can they find innovative ways of making music without producing the same results from a record to another? Most times a success is not waiting behind the corner, all those skip-click-fizz-and-buzz practices often turning into a litany for the destruction of the residual hopes of listening to a cleverly conceived recording. Luckily, this one (“recorded during Sachiko M and Otomo Yoshihide’s trip to Seoul for concerts organized by RELAY”) doesn’t belong to this category, especially in virtue of its rather interesting combinations of colours. This stuff is only for the well-versed, of course; not sure that the melange of maniacal sputtering, vituperation of harmonic construction, bizarrely hesitant oscillations and unsympathetic hiccups is going to appeal to those who love to hear some old-fashioned consonance in their wine-influenced evening sessions; in the final track, Otomo is even heard torturing an electric guitar. In general, nothing memorably new under the sun, although the sonic concoctions generated by this quartet tickle the nerves quite efficiently. With headphones on, in front of a muted TV set airing Criminal Minds, the session made for an experience halfway through occult encoding and electrophysiological stimulation. Alternatively, you may be willing to listen to Mozart or Vivaldi and get brainwashed for real.
Balloon & Needle
Apart from the nice U2 pun of the title, this record – entirely realized with a CD player and a turntable – brings an unrepentant, if somewhat moderate assault on the listener’s ears, subjected to an alternance of remorseless frequencies and episodes of extra-charged “tranquillity” for over 73 minutes. The protagonists manipulate their sources with expertise, obtaining uncommonly surprising sounds whose scope goes from ultrasonically acute stabs and extremely sharp interlocutions to quasi-silent segments where only through headphones we’re able to identify some sort of subterranean activity, often based on the exploration of audibility ranges that are better suited to dogs, cats and bats than humans (one can always improve, though). There’s a method to this music, which is why I particularly appreciate it: the performers are listening attentively even before releasing substances, which gives the idea of partially predetermined materials, although that’s probably not the case. There are abundant doses of pleasantly musical noise that, for once, implies a cleverly planned structure instead of exclusively introducing pain and tediousness, Chulki and Joonyong the representatives of an open-minded aural diplomacy that tends to leave exasperation aside in favour of an almost total sonic acceptability, disintegrated constituents notwithstanding. This release could be seriously cherished by those who welcome the products of Ferran Fages’ acoustic turntables. A well conceived, stimulating work.
JIN SANGTAE – Extensity Of Hard Disk Drive
Sangtae expresses himself through amplified hard disks, in case you missed it. This passion started fifteen years ago while working part-time at Yong-san electronic market, and he has tried both to increase the knowledge and enhance the techniques for making the machines work according to a musical sense. In certain circumstances the composer manages to achieve something that could be (very vaguely) defined as such, especially in terms of rhythmic pulse; yet the problem that is going to push a lot of people away from this CD, I suspect, is that many of the sounds produced are so unforgiving, so harsh, so intrinsically inharmonious that only a sadist might be willing to repeat the experience more than once. In truth there’s no actual music here, but a series of characterless mechanical events, some of them interesting, others just silly or plain dreary. I’m sorry to report that, in general, the contents of Extensity Of Hard Disk Drive are not remarkable enough to justify their release.
CHOI JOONYONG / HONG CHULKI / SACHIKO M / OTOMO YOSHIHIDE – Sweet Cuts, Distant Curves
Despite the above positive review of Hum And Rattle I’m not the least envious of artists expressing themselves with CD players and turntables these days; how can they find innovative ways of making music without producing the same results from a record to another? Most times a success is not waiting behind the corner, all those skip-click-fizz-and-buzz practices often turning into a litany for the destruction of the residual hopes of listening to a cleverly conceived recording. Luckily, this one (“recorded during Sachiko M and Otomo Yoshihide’s trip to Seoul for concerts organized by RELAY”) doesn’t belong to this category, especially in virtue of its rather interesting combinations of colours. This stuff is only for the well-versed, of course; not sure that the melange of maniacal sputtering, vituperation of harmonic construction, bizarrely hesitant oscillations and unsympathetic hiccups is going to appeal to those who love to hear some old-fashioned consonance in their wine-influenced evening sessions; in the final track, Otomo is even heard torturing an electric guitar. In general, nothing memorably new under the sun, although the sonic concoctions generated by this quartet tickle the nerves quite efficiently. With headphones on, in front of a muted TV set airing Criminal Minds, the session made for an experience halfway through occult encoding and electrophysiological stimulation. Alternatively, you may be willing to listen to Mozart or Vivaldi and get brainwashed for real.
Balloon & Needle
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Old And Young Masters
ALLAN HOLDSWORTH / ALAN PASQUA / JIMMY HASLIP / CHAD WACKERMAN – Blues For Tony
Your reviewer saw the above quartet performing this repertoire in Rome about two and a half years ago, so what’s missing here is any factor of potential surprise. But there’s no question that lovers of old-fashioned jazz rock will have a ball with Blues For Tony, a 2-CD set dedicated to the memory of Tony Williams, Pasqua and Holdsworth having been a part of The New Tony Williams Lifetime halfway through the seventies. Favourites from that era such as “Fred” and “Proto Cosmos” are rendered with characteristically classy know-how – not that we had any doubt given the names involved – together with more recent individual compositions (Wackerman’s “The Fifth” and Pasqua’s “San Michele” the ones that mostly remain in mind) and long improvisations that might sound a little dated at times but are always imbued with a kind of passionate involvement that is becoming rare to see nowadays. Yet it’s the English guitarist who steals the show (and, as usual, my heart) in the opening section of “Pud Wud”, thanks to a series of magnificent chordal swells which constitute both a trademark and a symbol of this man’s exceptional harmonic vision. I’m still waiting for the day in which AH releases an album made exclusively of superimposed guitars: maybe road manager and label honcho Leonardo Pavkovic could try and convince the stubborn maverick from outer space to finally make his thirsty fan’s wish come true. (Moonjune)
JIM O’ROURKE – I’m Happy, And I’m Singing And A 1,2,3,4
Reissue of the namesake work from 2001 – in truth, among the less profound ones in the list of JO’R more experimental recordings – with a bonus disc containing additional material, which is obviously the only reason for obtaining a new copy of this item. The original remains a rather light-hearted nicety after eight years, its atmospheres ranging from Terry Riley-esque repetitions informed by lots of digital skipping and assorted kinds of technical malfunctioning utilized as a compositional means to the near-solemnity of the final “And A 1,2,3,4”, whose slow melodic arcs recall selected chapters from Stephen Scott’s bowed piano book (instead, O’Rourke doesn’t specify the sources for his music, which I agree with – mystery is OK in certain instances). The second CD is mainly characterized by the lengthy “Getting The Vapors”, almost forty minutes of mysterious, unfathomable drones fading in and out, intoxicating disquietude and oppressing anxiety eliminating any chance of use for meditation-with-incense purposes. It is also very pleasant to rediscover “He Who Laughs”, a composite piece full of “concretely oneiric” manifestations, stimulating electronics, marching bands surrounded by fog and unrestricted processing that had originally been issued on a limited edition vinyl on Neon Gallery, a rarity missed by many latecomers finally available again. While some of these tracks do not reach the same level of inner vibration typifying O’Rourke’s masterpieces – if you want to start with one, head straight to Long Night or Tamper – there’s enough meat here to keep your mind busy for days, complex reflections, disguised fears and the occasional humour typical of this composer all valid reasons for stopping doing other things and lend attention to sounds that might be loved or hated, but never appear conventional to these ears. (Editions Mego)
Your reviewer saw the above quartet performing this repertoire in Rome about two and a half years ago, so what’s missing here is any factor of potential surprise. But there’s no question that lovers of old-fashioned jazz rock will have a ball with Blues For Tony, a 2-CD set dedicated to the memory of Tony Williams, Pasqua and Holdsworth having been a part of The New Tony Williams Lifetime halfway through the seventies. Favourites from that era such as “Fred” and “Proto Cosmos” are rendered with characteristically classy know-how – not that we had any doubt given the names involved – together with more recent individual compositions (Wackerman’s “The Fifth” and Pasqua’s “San Michele” the ones that mostly remain in mind) and long improvisations that might sound a little dated at times but are always imbued with a kind of passionate involvement that is becoming rare to see nowadays. Yet it’s the English guitarist who steals the show (and, as usual, my heart) in the opening section of “Pud Wud”, thanks to a series of magnificent chordal swells which constitute both a trademark and a symbol of this man’s exceptional harmonic vision. I’m still waiting for the day in which AH releases an album made exclusively of superimposed guitars: maybe road manager and label honcho Leonardo Pavkovic could try and convince the stubborn maverick from outer space to finally make his thirsty fan’s wish come true. (Moonjune)
JIM O’ROURKE – I’m Happy, And I’m Singing And A 1,2,3,4
Reissue of the namesake work from 2001 – in truth, among the less profound ones in the list of JO’R more experimental recordings – with a bonus disc containing additional material, which is obviously the only reason for obtaining a new copy of this item. The original remains a rather light-hearted nicety after eight years, its atmospheres ranging from Terry Riley-esque repetitions informed by lots of digital skipping and assorted kinds of technical malfunctioning utilized as a compositional means to the near-solemnity of the final “And A 1,2,3,4”, whose slow melodic arcs recall selected chapters from Stephen Scott’s bowed piano book (instead, O’Rourke doesn’t specify the sources for his music, which I agree with – mystery is OK in certain instances). The second CD is mainly characterized by the lengthy “Getting The Vapors”, almost forty minutes of mysterious, unfathomable drones fading in and out, intoxicating disquietude and oppressing anxiety eliminating any chance of use for meditation-with-incense purposes. It is also very pleasant to rediscover “He Who Laughs”, a composite piece full of “concretely oneiric” manifestations, stimulating electronics, marching bands surrounded by fog and unrestricted processing that had originally been issued on a limited edition vinyl on Neon Gallery, a rarity missed by many latecomers finally available again. While some of these tracks do not reach the same level of inner vibration typifying O’Rourke’s masterpieces – if you want to start with one, head straight to Long Night or Tamper – there’s enough meat here to keep your mind busy for days, complex reflections, disguised fears and the occasional humour typical of this composer all valid reasons for stopping doing other things and lend attention to sounds that might be loved or hated, but never appear conventional to these ears. (Editions Mego)
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
More Random Picks From The Long-Waiting 2008 Heap
I’ll try to be short and sweet (or, when applicable, concise and honest). Got to get rid of this persistent sense of guilt, you know.
CARESS OF MY FIST – Etudes In Violence
Basically, COMF is the duo of violinist Mike Khoury and reedist Fred Bergman typically supplemented by a third rotating element. In this disc there are two, percussionist Curtis Glatter and guitarist Chris Riggs. Despite the project and record’s names and the pugilistic aroma emanating from the track titles (such as “Sucker Punch” and “Knocked The Wind Out Of Me”), this music mostly consists of a kind of well-dressed, ear-pleasing improvisation, frequently scented with oriental essences yet not scared of treading more dissonant paths, without exaggerating in one sense or another. Khoury and Bergman - who in this case plays sax and flute - are rigorous respecters of the value of silence, avoiding condescension and verbose chit-chat in favour of few crucial concepts exposed with clarity and good doses of soul. Their partners appear as valid contributors throughout, enhancing the overall feel of barely perturbed composure via rather restrained footnotes, controlled discharges and, in general, intelligent coordination. Although slightly inoffensive at times, this is a fine enough album which comes lodged in an interesting hexagonal sleeve whose mechanism of closure, which results in a sort of complex flower, is a thing of beauty. (Cohort)
MARINA PETERSON / PHILLIP SCHULZE / JONATHAN CHEN / ANDREW RAFFO DEWAR – Quartet Solo Series
Different artists performing alone, according to a conceptual design comparing their efforts to four separate “albums” on one CD. Cellist Peterson – whose resume is undeniably impressive – didn’t make me overly enthusiast with her rather drained improvisations, “enhanced” by the usual means (paper, clips, sticks). Aside from a couple of instances where the percussive traits of the cello are exploited to give birth to interesting, if not groundbreaking resonant symptoms, the music remains pretty unexciting, too linked to certain (by now abused) aspects of acoustic modernity that privilege the clinical dissection of an instrument. It doesn’t always work, this being a classic case. Schulze’s “Cause Unfold Proceed II” is a half-improvised, half-composed electronic abstraction that presents several intriguing points of access, despite an apparent difficulty. The piece, although very fragmentary and undergoing a perennial atmospheric shift, results well connected to a fundamental plan and gifted with a biotic synchronization of sorts, detectable down to the tiniest component. A façade of coarse coldness hiding millions of purulent micro-organisms, no time for excessive thoughts and analyses, good stuff indeed. Another composition for electronics is presented by Chen, who in “Drummer” utilized a child’s drum set (snare, tom and bass drum) as an equalizing filter for the feedback generated by “independent system/amplifiers without the use of a limiter”. The result is a continuously droning superimposition of buzzes, quite minimal yet extremely functional (especially via headphones – I almost went to sleep while listening, such is the mind-numbing power of these frequencies). Last but not least, Raffo Dewar gifts us with two excellent pieces for soprano sax, in which he demonstrates a complete control of the instrumental nuances fused with an inherently clever, intuitively rational melodic diagram and an uncommon sensitiveness in terms of emitted note-environmental response-reaction to the environmental response. The man has studied with Steve Lacy and Anthony Braxton, and it shows. A fitting conclusion for a (predominantly) substantial release. (Striking Mechanism)
JEREMY BIBLE & JASON HENRY – Vryashn
For the enquiring ones, the title is a contraption of “Variation”. Bible and Henry are extremely active figures in the musical realm that encompasses concrete sounds and heavily processed instruments, alternating recordings and installations in a seemingly unstoppable productive quest. Yet this is, if memory serves, the first time I meet them. The record consists of two extended segments. Part 1 is principally constructed upon permanently stretched pianistic emissions immersed in long reverberation, with just a change in the equalization towards the end. A single movement repeated ad infinitum, like a marine ebb and flow. Not transcendental, but also not annoying, this is nearly perfect as a circumstantial sonic commentary for a documentary about the abyss (of what type, it remains to be seen). The opening section of the second chapter is replete with muffled echoes of inexplicable activities interspersed with powerful hums and – once more – lengthy resonances which seem to allude to some sort of hidden subaqueous universe. One detects distant pulses, metallic intromissions and whispered fears, then it’s undying piano – complemented by additional indistinct timbres - all over again. On the whole: neither bad nor exceptional stuff, the bonus being a couple of emotionally charged events that raise the overall value, this would have definitely worked better at half a hour or so. (Gears Of Sand)
MICHAEL GENDREAU – Voûtes
Another installation, another CD documenting its sonic behaviour. The premise is Rue Tolbiac in Paris, under which a “group of arc-shaped vaults” is located. Gendreau recorded the vibrations generated by the surrounding structures, which were used as a sort of preamble for the actual concert in that exhibition space. The audible outcome is, to be blunt, pretty dull: tedious as a depressing winter afternoon, monotonous like the sounds from a subway, a series of indistinct presences halfway through gurgling pipes and ghostly currents, repeating themselves without deviations. The live segment, taped by Eric Cordier, utilizes the first piece together with additional manipulations - both of the original source and the basic track itself - and is also barely motivating (in spite of the different placement of the microphones and the “variations” in the mix). I’m not lying when telling you that, at times, the boiler and the wind beneath the roof at my house produce more appealing music. Typical example of “better enjoyed on site than reproduced in a room”. (Cohort)
THE PUSH-PULL QUARTET – At The Stroke Of Twelve
Formed by Ben Miller (alto & c-tenor sax), Chris Welcome (guitar), Shayna Dulberger (upright bass) and John McLellan (drums), Push-Pull gravitate around the planet of downtown jazz – Lounge Lizards came to mind, if only occasionally – mixing a rather straightforward exploration of angularity with expressive issues deriving from older illustrious pasts. They mostly perform without excessive pressure yet, even considering the generally stress-free mood, their way of interlocking themes and improvisations is often characterized by good-humoured dissonant bad manners, constantly informed by timbral clarity: no squeaks and shrieks, just mild contrasts and acceptable disagreements. While Miller and Welcome seem to be reciprocally attracted on a semi-melodic level, and Dulberger and McLellan are all but a typical rhythm section given the apparent tendency to wander across hardly welcoming harmonic regions, hearing how the quartet is able to travel in unison then abandon themselves to a quasi-uneducated chiselling of improvisational divergence – stylishness be damned – is alone worth an attentive try. You won’t rejoice for a new revolution after that; still, At The Stroke Of Twelve remains a thoroughly enjoyable CD. (Tigerasylum)
MIKE KHOURY / WILL SODERBERG – Volumen Drei
Khoury’s violin against Soderberg’s processing (…and electronics? I couldn’t say, but it would seem so), creating a strange kind of music that alternates complete abstraction and more stable sections – the ones this writer prefers – where repetitive loops and impressively deployed spacious resonances spread around my room consistently even at moderate volume. Short and uncomplicated string fragments, often bordering on the pseudo-introspective side of things, get utterly modified and retransformed into scarcely palatable food for the psyche, bouncing and bubbling in constant alteration and total unpredictability. All sounds are surrounded by several strata of grime, sort of a perennially lurking distortion that renders the whole less decipherable. The flummoxing qualities of the large part of the CD are balanced by the above mentioned “peaceful” vistas, the union of these different facets conjuring up memories of electronic pioneers. Amidst romantic impracticality and incorrupt experimentation, these artists appear to have fun and contemplate at once, the outcome a bizarrely attractive record that I’ve already played various times, and which is not likely to become annoying anytime soon. A low-budget, minor classic that comes highly recommended if you wish to forget about illuminated nonentities and celebrate instead erratic contaminations by two eccentrically sterling purveyors of ear-gratifying arbitrariness. (Tigerasylum)
CARESS OF MY FIST – Etudes In Violence
Basically, COMF is the duo of violinist Mike Khoury and reedist Fred Bergman typically supplemented by a third rotating element. In this disc there are two, percussionist Curtis Glatter and guitarist Chris Riggs. Despite the project and record’s names and the pugilistic aroma emanating from the track titles (such as “Sucker Punch” and “Knocked The Wind Out Of Me”), this music mostly consists of a kind of well-dressed, ear-pleasing improvisation, frequently scented with oriental essences yet not scared of treading more dissonant paths, without exaggerating in one sense or another. Khoury and Bergman - who in this case plays sax and flute - are rigorous respecters of the value of silence, avoiding condescension and verbose chit-chat in favour of few crucial concepts exposed with clarity and good doses of soul. Their partners appear as valid contributors throughout, enhancing the overall feel of barely perturbed composure via rather restrained footnotes, controlled discharges and, in general, intelligent coordination. Although slightly inoffensive at times, this is a fine enough album which comes lodged in an interesting hexagonal sleeve whose mechanism of closure, which results in a sort of complex flower, is a thing of beauty. (Cohort)
MARINA PETERSON / PHILLIP SCHULZE / JONATHAN CHEN / ANDREW RAFFO DEWAR – Quartet Solo Series
Different artists performing alone, according to a conceptual design comparing their efforts to four separate “albums” on one CD. Cellist Peterson – whose resume is undeniably impressive – didn’t make me overly enthusiast with her rather drained improvisations, “enhanced” by the usual means (paper, clips, sticks). Aside from a couple of instances where the percussive traits of the cello are exploited to give birth to interesting, if not groundbreaking resonant symptoms, the music remains pretty unexciting, too linked to certain (by now abused) aspects of acoustic modernity that privilege the clinical dissection of an instrument. It doesn’t always work, this being a classic case. Schulze’s “Cause Unfold Proceed II” is a half-improvised, half-composed electronic abstraction that presents several intriguing points of access, despite an apparent difficulty. The piece, although very fragmentary and undergoing a perennial atmospheric shift, results well connected to a fundamental plan and gifted with a biotic synchronization of sorts, detectable down to the tiniest component. A façade of coarse coldness hiding millions of purulent micro-organisms, no time for excessive thoughts and analyses, good stuff indeed. Another composition for electronics is presented by Chen, who in “Drummer” utilized a child’s drum set (snare, tom and bass drum) as an equalizing filter for the feedback generated by “independent system/amplifiers without the use of a limiter”. The result is a continuously droning superimposition of buzzes, quite minimal yet extremely functional (especially via headphones – I almost went to sleep while listening, such is the mind-numbing power of these frequencies). Last but not least, Raffo Dewar gifts us with two excellent pieces for soprano sax, in which he demonstrates a complete control of the instrumental nuances fused with an inherently clever, intuitively rational melodic diagram and an uncommon sensitiveness in terms of emitted note-environmental response-reaction to the environmental response. The man has studied with Steve Lacy and Anthony Braxton, and it shows. A fitting conclusion for a (predominantly) substantial release. (Striking Mechanism)
JEREMY BIBLE & JASON HENRY – Vryashn
For the enquiring ones, the title is a contraption of “Variation”. Bible and Henry are extremely active figures in the musical realm that encompasses concrete sounds and heavily processed instruments, alternating recordings and installations in a seemingly unstoppable productive quest. Yet this is, if memory serves, the first time I meet them. The record consists of two extended segments. Part 1 is principally constructed upon permanently stretched pianistic emissions immersed in long reverberation, with just a change in the equalization towards the end. A single movement repeated ad infinitum, like a marine ebb and flow. Not transcendental, but also not annoying, this is nearly perfect as a circumstantial sonic commentary for a documentary about the abyss (of what type, it remains to be seen). The opening section of the second chapter is replete with muffled echoes of inexplicable activities interspersed with powerful hums and – once more – lengthy resonances which seem to allude to some sort of hidden subaqueous universe. One detects distant pulses, metallic intromissions and whispered fears, then it’s undying piano – complemented by additional indistinct timbres - all over again. On the whole: neither bad nor exceptional stuff, the bonus being a couple of emotionally charged events that raise the overall value, this would have definitely worked better at half a hour or so. (Gears Of Sand)
MICHAEL GENDREAU – Voûtes
Another installation, another CD documenting its sonic behaviour. The premise is Rue Tolbiac in Paris, under which a “group of arc-shaped vaults” is located. Gendreau recorded the vibrations generated by the surrounding structures, which were used as a sort of preamble for the actual concert in that exhibition space. The audible outcome is, to be blunt, pretty dull: tedious as a depressing winter afternoon, monotonous like the sounds from a subway, a series of indistinct presences halfway through gurgling pipes and ghostly currents, repeating themselves without deviations. The live segment, taped by Eric Cordier, utilizes the first piece together with additional manipulations - both of the original source and the basic track itself - and is also barely motivating (in spite of the different placement of the microphones and the “variations” in the mix). I’m not lying when telling you that, at times, the boiler and the wind beneath the roof at my house produce more appealing music. Typical example of “better enjoyed on site than reproduced in a room”. (Cohort)
THE PUSH-PULL QUARTET – At The Stroke Of Twelve
Formed by Ben Miller (alto & c-tenor sax), Chris Welcome (guitar), Shayna Dulberger (upright bass) and John McLellan (drums), Push-Pull gravitate around the planet of downtown jazz – Lounge Lizards came to mind, if only occasionally – mixing a rather straightforward exploration of angularity with expressive issues deriving from older illustrious pasts. They mostly perform without excessive pressure yet, even considering the generally stress-free mood, their way of interlocking themes and improvisations is often characterized by good-humoured dissonant bad manners, constantly informed by timbral clarity: no squeaks and shrieks, just mild contrasts and acceptable disagreements. While Miller and Welcome seem to be reciprocally attracted on a semi-melodic level, and Dulberger and McLellan are all but a typical rhythm section given the apparent tendency to wander across hardly welcoming harmonic regions, hearing how the quartet is able to travel in unison then abandon themselves to a quasi-uneducated chiselling of improvisational divergence – stylishness be damned – is alone worth an attentive try. You won’t rejoice for a new revolution after that; still, At The Stroke Of Twelve remains a thoroughly enjoyable CD. (Tigerasylum)
MIKE KHOURY / WILL SODERBERG – Volumen Drei
Khoury’s violin against Soderberg’s processing (…and electronics? I couldn’t say, but it would seem so), creating a strange kind of music that alternates complete abstraction and more stable sections – the ones this writer prefers – where repetitive loops and impressively deployed spacious resonances spread around my room consistently even at moderate volume. Short and uncomplicated string fragments, often bordering on the pseudo-introspective side of things, get utterly modified and retransformed into scarcely palatable food for the psyche, bouncing and bubbling in constant alteration and total unpredictability. All sounds are surrounded by several strata of grime, sort of a perennially lurking distortion that renders the whole less decipherable. The flummoxing qualities of the large part of the CD are balanced by the above mentioned “peaceful” vistas, the union of these different facets conjuring up memories of electronic pioneers. Amidst romantic impracticality and incorrupt experimentation, these artists appear to have fun and contemplate at once, the outcome a bizarrely attractive record that I’ve already played various times, and which is not likely to become annoying anytime soon. A low-budget, minor classic that comes highly recommended if you wish to forget about illuminated nonentities and celebrate instead erratic contaminations by two eccentrically sterling purveyors of ear-gratifying arbitrariness. (Tigerasylum)
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