CDOTD 05/27/2025

Ennio Morricone: Queimada OST (GDM)

Borrowed from the library

More Morricone. I've long claimed Bernard Herrmann to be my favorite film composer. So why all the Morricone? His stock has risen to me in more recent years, and there's certainly no lack of albums to buy. If he scored approximately 500 films, how many of those have never seen release? Surely at least a few, to speak nothing of out-of-print titles.

Queimada (released as Burn! in English, the title itself meaning "burned" in Portuguese) stars Marlon Brando. Interesting. Brando's so well know for particular films: On the Waterfront, Last Tango in Paris, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now!, even the disaster that is The Island of Dr. Moreau. But what about this? Or the awkwardly titled The Night of the Following Day? Or The Ugly American, Moritori, The Teahouse of the August Moon? 

I've never seen any of those. Maybe they're good, I don't know. When you star in several movies that make many people's short lists of greatest-of-all-time, there could be good work that goes less recognized. Or maybe not, maybe they're garbage. I have seen Candy in which he plays...an Indian guru I guess? It's pretty forgettable.

What do you expect from a Morricone soundtrack? Wordless vocals? Check. (It doesn't sound like Edda Del'Orsso in this case.) Some classical strains? In plentitude. Some tension-ratcheting harmonies? Yes definitely, an early track on the CD being a great example. There's also a piece here with figures looping in different meters, something I've heard in his work before too. The opening sounds, I don't know, very 1960s to me. Considering it was 1969, that comes as no surprise. 

Like many complete soundtrack albums, this is longer than it needs to be from a purely listening standpoint. But you know, it's the complete document, as it should be. 

Once again I am grateful for a good public library with an excellent music and media division. You can check out video games there! Not that I have ever owned a game console, besides our family Atari in 1980. I used to wipe out my Dad at Tank Battle. He thought maybe I had an advantage being left-handed. (Nope. The joystick was right-handed. I was just younger, better reflexes, and and knew how to shoot him down after recovering from the previous shot.)

VOTD 05/26/2025

 Revolutionary Ensemble: The Psyche (RE: Records)

Purchased used from Mike Shanley

Randomizer/limiter: R S, vinyl.

Mike can be a bit of a vinyl/CD hustler. I think I bought two different Ligeti CD boxes from him. On another occasion I came to his house to check over some vinyl he was looking to sell. He's bought several whole collections; in one case, the collection yielded a copy of The Five's first 7" "Napalm Beach". I'm determined not to feel jealousy over other peoples' finds, but that's a good one.

I was making a fast dig through some of his shelves (there was a LOT to look over) and this caught my attention. Yeah, I'd like to hear that. 

I bought this, two Stormy Six records, and one or two other things for $75. He mentioned something about the going price. (High price on discogs is currently $65, and this copy if very clean.) I shrugged my shoulders, just interested in the information contained in the grooves. I guess he figured cash in hand was better than waiting to sell it for more. Plus, you know, I actually have listened to the god damned thing haven't I?

I'm not immune or disassociated from the after market cost of these records. I knew I hadn't seen this before and didn't really have a sense of how much it might be worth, though I guess I knew it was rare. I wasn't looking to shaft Mike in any way, just listen to this piece of history I hadn't experienced before. 

And what a time. 1975, Nixon was freshly out of office, the Vietnam War was winding down, and there's still a lot of anger over racial injustice. The Revolutionary Ensemble lineup itself is somewhat pushing against conventions: violin/viola, bass, drums/piano. Leroy Jenkins and Jerome Cooper had previously worked together in a quartet with Anthony Braxton and Leo Smith, which took the idea of "energy music" into a different direction than Albert Ayler or Cecil Taylor (dissipation as opposed to concentration). 

This gets energetic, though. Maybe not the intensity of a Peter Brotzmann album, but they hammer it out towards the end of side one as well as a violin/bass/drums trio can.

The album has three compositions, one each from the members. Side one's "Invasion" by Jerome Cooper ends very abruptly. It's 26 minutes 15 seconds. It's like an engineer said, "I can give you 26:15 and not a second more!" and held to it. The sound quality in general is clear but on the raw side, rather like you're in the room with them. Good.

Sometimes I'd love to hear a saxophone in here, but that wouldn't be so revolutionary, would it?

What can I say, it's a worthy listen if you can find it. I think this is the only LP they self-released, with their mailing address on the back. 

VOTD 05/24/2025

 VA: Music for Tape/Band-Musik from Sweden/Aus Schweden/från Sverige (Caprice)

Purchased used at Jerry's, I think.

I ran my randomizer/limiter programming and came up with: KLM, vinyl. I decided it wasn't fair to leave out complications from the mix, therefor this qualifies as M. 

Anyway, for the 3-10 people who actually read this blog (hi Dave, hi Jason) and care, I've been taken out of commission by a virus for most of the past week. Tuesday afternoon I was standing in my living room and realized instantaneously, "I'm really sick." Tuesday night was among the most awful nights I can remember, never sleeping for more than 10 minutes at a time, alternating between fever sweats and teeth-chattering chills, and on the edge of hallucination. (At least I was spared nausea). And the music that kept returning to my mind? The most recent Brown Angel album that was the subject of a previous post. I had been listening to it in the gym the day before, and pieces of it stuck. Will that album now be the soundtrack of the memory of my illness? I don't know, but I was obsessing a bit on things I had written that didn't satisfy me, and I might return to it for a redux post in the near future.

Now that it's more than four days later, I'm mostly better. Walking the neighborhood earlier today, I found myself fatigued very easily, so step by step.

I came across this LP and remembered liking it. I'm inclined to collect LPs of old school electronic music. Even if the results aren't are polished as can be produced today, I like the "sweat" on them. 

I have not heard (or don't remember hearing) of any of these composers before: Sten Hanson, Leo Nilson, Arne Mellnäs, Bengt Emil Johnson, Lars-Gunnar Bodin, Jan W. Morthenson. In many ways that's exciting, at least if the work is good, which in this case I would say it is. It also seems poignant to hear these composers whose work stands toe-to-toe with many of the great RTF (France) and WDR (Germany, just to be clear) artists, and I know nothing about them at all besides this LP. At least we have this.

With one earlier exception, the works date from 1969-1971 (the LP was released in 1973). The emphasis tends to mostly on musique concrète techniques, sounds derived from acoustical sources and manipulated/assembled through recording techniques. Some of the pieces cross over into poetry and sound poetry.

Sidebar: pure forms of musique concrète still are being created, but the idea of dogmatically creating in this style is old fashioned. Still, it was one of the things I felt necessary to teach to my university students because almost none of them knew what the term meant. All this access to information but so little intellectual curiosity sometimes. I know it was my job to help fill in those gaps and inspire creativity, but it felt like talking to a brick wall sometimes.

Interestingly, both sides close with entirely electronically-generated works. The album concludes with Jan Morthenson's "Ultra". The notes state that he was the first Swedish composer to realized a computer generated work (in conjunction with the engineer), and that this piec  is a further development of that material. I take that to mean this is also a very early computer generated work. The effort behind this must have been immense. 

I have enough of these old electronic music collections, I need to make a mental note of trying to remember these names. Who were these guys? (No women I'm sorry to say.) Only one of them might still be alive. Did they have national reputations? What is it to be known as a composer in Sweden?

VOTD 05/13/2025

 宮内庁楽部* = Music Department, Imperial Household* – Gagaku (Court Music) (Columbia) 10" LP

Purchased used at Jerry's Records

I was for quite a few years associated with WRCT. First as student, then summer fill in, hanging when I still had friends working there. There were two great things about WRCT, apart from the hang: access to the best record/music library in Pittsburgh (to the best of my knowledge), and being able to hear new releases as they came in. Sometimes, such as my recent post about Tom Waits' Swordfishtrombones, being able to score a duplicate promo copy. 

I was at the station (I'm finding it was 1990) during an unboxing of promo CDs. One package came from a new label of traditional Japanese music. One of the discs absolutely transfixed me: it was an album entirely of Gagaku. (This was it: https://www.discogs.com/release/1427070-Kunaich%C5%8D-Gakubu-Gagaku-Etenraku-Azumaasobi-Kishunraku-Seigaiha) 

I'd never heard it, or anything like it before. It felt like a dreamscape. Gagaku is imperial court music, and considered to be the oldest extant orchestral music in the world. The Gagaku "orchestra" comprises of several percussion, some plectrum instruments (biwa being one), a strident double reed, transverse flutes, and most significantly, the mouth organ (sho). It is the latter, playing cluster voicings, that gives Gagaku music its otherworldly quality to these Western ears. It's "dissonant" (by Western standards) but I also find it pleasant, and yes, dreamy. 

Just goes to show you, consider whatever supposed avant-garde techniques European and American composers might devise, there's a chance so-called "ethnic" musicians have topped it. 

(Sidebar: I'm thinking of an LP of Indian music that had a track of someone playing two conch shells simultaneously, tuned about a half step apart. He could control the beating patterns by way of lip pressure, and I think he was circular breathing. Take that, Alvin Lucier!)

I'd bought a couple of Gagaku CDs over the years. I love them all, but it's all pretty similar. I even learned to recognize one particular piece, "Etenraku", which I've dubbed the "Stairway to Heaven" of Gagaku. As in, everyone plays it. (Maybe "Free Bird" would be a better comparison.) It's not that I permanently called off buying any more Gagaku recordings, but I wasn't going to seek them out. 

And then, as Jerry's Records sometimes does (especially under Jerry himself), a surprise came along. 

It was hard to believe: four beautifully packaged Gagaku 10" LPs, the earliest (this) dating to 1957. The vinyl looked clean, and sounds good. I think I paid no more than $8 apiece, which I knew was a bargain. This was also around the time I found two 10" LPs of Maoist-era Chinese opera records in the same section of the store.

It's Gagaku. It's beautiful. I have three other 10"ers to go with it, two of which have renditions of "Etenraku".

I have a special section in my record shelves for valuable records. Things I know are worth money, like original Sun Ra on Saturn, the first Picchio Dal Pozzo record, some of my United Dairies vinyl, among other things. This isn't in that section. 

But I'd like to think, once I'm gone, someone looks through my collection and says, "Wow, check out these Gagaku 10"s!"

Which reminds me of a Jerry Weber story. Indulge me if I've written this before. 

Jerry told me about a young couple buying an old album in his store. He looked at it and said, "You know, this is a fifty year old record. You're young, you'll live another fifty years. If you keep this, you'll have a hundred year old record, and it'll sound as good then as it does now." I cynically replied, "Yeah, it'll sound as scratched up then as it does now."

But now more than ever I appreciate Jerry's optimism. We are transient, but (hopefully) some of the things we leave endure. 

VOTD 05/12/2025

 Brown Angel: Promisemaker (Sleeping Giant Glossolalia)

Purchased new, mail order direct from label

Some disclosures: I've played with this band. I'm even thanked in the liner notes. And now that I'm reading more closely, it seems that I appear on this album. How about that. Explanation to come. 

I will also point out that on a few occasions, the person or band I'm writing about reads my comments. Thankfully I don't think I've written anything especially dumb or trite on those occasions. 

It came as a surprise when my Facebook feed informed me there was a new Brown Angel album. Bandleader Adam MacGregor has been in and out of the US for some years now; his wife is in the State Department. I think he's back in Mumbai now. During his most US stay, Brown Angel played a few gigs with a new bassist. 

Well, it seems as though most of the recording dates to 2018-2019. My contribution came a later, but I can't recall exactly how long ago. I'm credited as playing contrabass clarinet, but actually it was bass clarinet. Honestly, I had to relisten to the track ("Who Wants a Dreamer?", the opener) to even detect my contribution. I think I'm heard briefly towards the end of the cut, but I would have never known it without being told. Adam had gotten in touch with me about recording some noisy bass clarinet, which I was happy to do. He never told me for what purpose, so now I guess I know.

Mark this down as another single contribution to an album project, something I seem to be doing recently. Greg Hoy, Spotlights, Microwaves (on a previous record, and the upcoming one as well), and Brown Angel previously. I could get used to that. Several of those were recorded at home using my own equipment. 

Brown Angel got some mileage out of being dubbed "Pittsburgh's Most Depressing Band" (well earned, I would add). There's no speed metal to be sure, but not everything on this is a slow grinder. What I guess is the second half of "It Was Hard (Piteous Trench)" is more driving, but not necessarily any less bleak. 

You have to have real dedication to maintain such a dark vision. (Though as I wrote that I thought, you need to have dedication to be a musician period.) And it might not come as a surprise that Adam and drummer John Roman are perfectly lovely, (as far as I can tell) well-adjusted people. (I don't know original bassist Mike Rensland as well, though I did say hello to him at John's recent wedding.) Adam is a great hang, funny, smart, enjoys spinning a good story. I look forward to those times he's stateside. 

I recalled, when writing about an earlier MacGregor band Creation Is Crucifixion, that Adam had said their intention was to be completely unlistenable. Well, how do you critically react to a band has that intention? Brown Angel is a dark, menacing band, and they succeed in that respect. Production sounds good here, though as you might expect, the guitars are pretty much up front. James Plotkin (Khanate0 mastered the sessions, which I'm sure added to the clarity. 

One complaint: guys, if I'm on this, maybe tell me it was coming out?

VOTD 05/06/2025

Tom Waits: Swordfishtrombones (Island)

This was a duplicate promo copy I scored from WRCT at the time of its release

One of the many reasons I started writing to this blog was to give purpose to my listening. Listen, and write my thoughts. I've amassed a substantial collection of CDs and vinyl LPs; nowhere nearly as large some I know, but large nonetheless. So given this field of possible choices, what do I choose?

To help myself in this respect, I created a Max (Max/MSP/Jitter) file to limit my choices. Max is the closest I've come to programming. I mean, it's programming of a sort. As my friend and world-renowned computer scientist Roger Dannenberg once said, "Max is audio programming for people who don't want to learn how to program." Sold! What might have been intended as a put-down is a selling point. In addition to to creating practical effects and instruments for use in Ableton Live, I created a patch (the word for the file) to calculate my grading for one of my classes. 

I set up a system to randomize a letter choice and format. Single letters didn't fair; T shouldn't have as much of chance as V. Letters are grouped together. For format, I chose CD (X2), vinyl (X2) and "other". I'd also give myself leniency with respect to first and last names, and new purchases take precedence. 

It's not a total Cage indeterminate action, just limiting my choices. 

First roll: W X Y Z, vinyl. I had meant to put on this Tom Waits record recently, so easy choice.

I remember when this LP rolled into WRCT in 1983. It was surprising. I've liked Tom Waits for as long as I've been aware of him, but it was clear this album was a shift in direction for him. Immediately on track one ("Underground") it sounded like he was shifting away from his more cabaret-ish roots towards something more Captain Beefheart-like. The bass marimba, the spiky guitar, the space, suggested Ed Marimba and Zoot Horn Rollo from the Magic Band.

Listening to it now, maybe I don't think it's as radical a departure as I once did. But the Beefheart influence is definitely present, and I think Tom has said so himself. In subsequent albums, he'd increase the emphasis on atmosphere. If he wanted the drums to sound like cardboard boxes, well, play cardboard boxes. The closing track briefly uses glass harmonica(!). More, I say!

The songs are compact, seven on side one, eight on side two. Some are particularly memorable: the aforementioned opening cut, the lovely "Johnsburg, Illinois" followed by the hard hitting "16 Shells From a Thirty-Ought Six". I'm not generally one to react to lyrics, but I laughed out loud at a lyric in "Frank's Wild Years": "...he hung his wild years on a nail that he drove through his wife's forehead." 

A couple of my friends have recorded with Tom, some years after this record. One of them told me that the strange thing meeting Tom was how normal everything was. His home is (or was, I don't know) in Sausalito. Kids were playing in the yard. Everything was very matter-of-fact. 

I recently bought Tom's Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers, and Bastards. His album of leftovers is great, better than most people's first run material. 

VOTD 05/05/2025

 Sorcery: Stunt Rock OST (Moving Image Entertainment)

Purchased used at Rosie's Records

I know I've written about my use of this forum before: music commentary, a small amount of analysis and musicology, and autobiography. Well, I'm going the latter for a few paragraphs, so indulge me. 

I turned in my notice at Carnegie Mellon last Friday. I'd been working there for twenty years. A few people, most notably my wife, knew in advance, but mostly I've stayed quiet about it. It's not a secret now, but I haven't been oversharing on something like Facebook. (Yet.)

The fundamental truth has been: I've been unhappy in the job. Some of is the nature of the position. The majority of my job was teaching a 101-level music technology to anyone: majors, non-majors, even staff. A graduate music major could be sitting next to a sophomore engineering student with no musical experience at all. And it was a mini-course, half a semester in length, fourteen sections in an academic year. I was simply weary of it. 

There are other factors, but little else I care to write publicly. I did start to feel frustrated that I wasn't teaching to my particular skills and experience, at least directly. Being part time adjunct faculty, there wasn't the opportunity to create new courses as I wished. Early after I was hired I had an idea for a course/ensemble/seminar in which we'd study and rehearse various existing repertoire involving improvisation, aleatoric and indeterminate techniques; discuss the similarities and differences; develop new works based on those experiences; ultimately perform publicly. An expansion of some of the things I did with my high school avant-garde ensemble, CAPA Antithesis. It didn't take long for me to figure out there wasn't much of a lane for me to create new ensembles and courses as I wished. Just adding a second section of an in-demand course was a laborious task that took nearly a month of convincing the right people.

None of this is intended as a criticism of the institution. It's just the nature of the job. I feel like I was a workhorse for the school, that they got value for the buck from me. I would be shocked if the next person lasts twenty years. They'll probably hire a recent graduate with a shiny new PHD who will last five years.

Okay, that's starting to sound cynical. I don't really know that.

My wife has been calling it my retirement; I've called it quitting my job. I'm not retired, the real work continues. With luck and determination, maybe more than before. But whatever you call it, yes, I'm now retired from CMU. And looking for musical opportunities.

Thank for indulging me that.

This record...

I'd never heard of the movie Stunt Rock before seeing a trailer collection on Tubi assembled by Alamo Drafthouse. I haven't seen the complete film yet, but the trash film fan in me definitely wants to view it. From what I'm reading online, it's part fiction/mockumentary (1978, years before Spinal Tap), part stunt demonstration, part concert film. I guess Sorcery was a real LA band, kind of a predecessor to the Van Halen and later hair metal scene. You can hear their influences pretty directly: some Deep Purple, a bit of Blue Öyster Cult and Judas Priest, and definitely some Black Sabbath. The latter is pretty obvious with songs like "Wizard's Council", "Mark of the Beast" and "Talking to the Devil". 

They're not bad. A little silly maybe, they're not that far from Spinal Tap. But you can hear some pre-Van Halen in here too. The vocals seem to be mixed a bit high, though maybe the convention of burying the voice under the guitar sound became more conventional later. I find the singer to be just okay, but then most singers irritate me. 

I think I need to see the film!

The reissue from 2000 comes weirdly as a two LP set: standard black vinyl edition, and a second version of the same as a picture disc. Considering the cover is pretty bad looking (and the same on front and back), this seems like a silly move. I listened to the black edition, which was clear and well pressed. I've found picture discs to often be very noisy in the past. 

I don't know that I'm going to keep at this blog as regularly as when I started, but I do intend to keep at it more regularly than I have been.