VOTD 9/28/2024

Creation Is Crucifixion: Antenna Builder | The Soldering Iron Gives Us Control (Robotic Empire)  

Record two: Live in Geneva, Switzerland May 28, 2000

Purchased through mail order

How do you react to a recording or performance in which the intention of the artists is to be unlistenable? "Good job"? "Sorry, but I totally listened to this"?

Last week I got to hang with Adam MacGregor. I will admit to being flattered by Adam in the past, who cites me as an inspiration for his more extreme musical aspirations. It's not that this recording suggests any direct influence, but that seeing Water Shed 5tet in the 90s gave him the confidence to follow his unusual musical interests.

I'm happy he would tell me so. But as with students I've taught in class who have gone on to success, I do not wish to take credit in any way. It is their work, maybe I helped push it along the way a little.

I know that in writing that, I might be slightly hypocritical and self-referential. Okay, I'll give myself a little credit.

Whatever else Creation Is Crucifixion was (an Adam project from this era), they were a tight unit. They absolutely charge through everything. The language in general is hard-hitting thrash metal with a kind of mathy-quality of fast changes, sudden tempo alterations, intense exchanges of ideas. They sound like they spent months out in a shed in the woods doing nothing by practicing, smoking, drinking Cokes and eating ramen noodles. (I know that's not actually true.) Nothing sits in your head as being catchy, nor is it meant to. They hit you hard, and by the time you feel it, they're on to the next idea. 

I think I've always been to some extent attracted to the extremes in music. Test the limits of expression. How far can you take things? Longer, shorter, quieter, louder, harder, softer, etc etc? Then reflect on those extremes or limits and learn from them.

The band is simultaneously a scalpel and a bludgeon. Cutting sharp, while at the same time knocking you over the head. I'm feeling pulverized at times. What was it like to see this band at its best? Probably overwhelming at times by the sheer density and intensity of it all. 

Permit me to share a song title or two: "School Steals the Capacity for Autonomous Action AKA Micro-Consuming Machines" or "The Allegory of the Algorithm (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Mimesis)". I don't understand how they remember the titles, let alone all of the music. But I do get a sense of humor from the titles not necessarily obvious from the songs. ("Songs" being loosely defined in this case.) Or anger? Both I imagine. 

And as if they didn't want to frustrate you enough, there are times when someone (possibly Adam) speaks quietly in a near-monotone for several minutes between songs, longer than some of the pieces themselves. No musician credits are provided. Based on looking over discogs.com, this was their practice. An anonymous collective, perhaps. No faces, no names, all confrontation.

And wouldn't you know it? The final track ends on a lock groove. It sounded like they stuck to a groove more than usual. 

VOTD 9/27/2024

Roberto Opalio: Chants From Isolated Ghosts (Opax)

Purchased used at Jerry's Records

I posted yesterday that I wanted to find something in my collection so obscure, I didn't remember it myself. I do remember buying this, a few years ago, but knew nothing about the artist or his group My Cat Is An Alien. Good band name.

Why would I buy this without tracking through it first? Probably the comment written by the Jerry's staff on the plastic outer sleeve: "Rare noise - lathe cut - clear vinyl - edition of 50". 

Yup. I know they don't sell things like this to only me, but definitely I could have been one of the customers in mind when that was written.

I will look over anything at Jerry's that looks like something's been done by hand. Hell, I put out a small edition LP myself, 300 pressed, 269 publicly available copies (the highest prime number under 300), and I affixed a label to every copy, and did collage art for all public copies. 

So yes, I got hooked in. I don't recall how much I paid but it couldn't have been that much. The cover image is printed on translucent stock, with some custom scribbling in silver pen over the front image. The information indicated this is copy #42 of 50. So exclusive! (There have been several CD editions of this recording, so I should feel too special about myself.) 

The notes read, "Recorded at home Nov. 2004 no overdubs" (his emphasis). Maybe so, but it sounds as though some tape is playing in the background, or the rhythmic humming of a machine of some sort. There's distorted banging on a glockenspiel maybe? Distant-sounding quietly sung vocals, and some sort of open guitar tuning banged out. At least that's what I'm guessing. That's side one.

Side two...more of the same sound sources, more droney electronics.

I don't know, the further I continue with this narrative, the less point it seems to write about this. Not as eerily insane as Jandek, not a particularly interesting improvisor. But hey, only 50 copies!

VOTD 9/26/2024 #2

 Stock, Hausen, and Walkman: Stock, Hausen, and Walkman Present Organ Transplants Vol. 1 (Hot Air)

Purchased used at Jerry's Records

I'm looking back on the narrative of this blog post, and maybe it's too much, too self-important, too over-sharing, but I'm doing it anyway. 

My wife's out for the evening, and I thought I'd put on something else and write. There's probably work I should be doing. There IS work I should be doing. But here I am.

Sometimes I'll put something on when she's out in which I don't have to explain myself. Harsh power electronics for example. I mean, I can put those things on, but it's easier not to have to explain myself. 

I was digging through my collection after listening to the Solaris soundtrack, hoping to find something so obscure I had forgotten I had a copy myself. (I thought of the "Theory of Obscurity" as I thumbed through my LPs and noticed my copy of The Residents' Not Available.)

I came across this record and it doesn't qualify, as I referenced it to a student just today. But I thought, yeah that's what I'll put on. I will mention that student in due time. 

So let me back up: when I accepted my job at Carnegie Mellon, the wisest piece of observation I was given was: "Remember, difference between a high school student and a college student is three months."

And that's fine for first year students. ("First year student" is the recent CMU substitute for "freshman", and I prefer it.) What sometimes surprises me is music composition students, juniors (sophomore-junior-senior is still used) who know nothing of the 20th/21st century avant-garde. Graduate students, even. My litmus test of composition majors is often: do you know who Harry Partch or Conlon Nancarrow is? I get a few more hits on the latter, but the only students who know the former have generally studied some place other than CMU. Which I think is ridiculous. 

Forgive a small autobiographical story, which I have surely shared on my blog before. The early recordings of Frank Zappa were every important to me, and he was always going on about Edgard Varése. So, as a college freshman (ahem, excuse me, first year student) I walked to the library and asked them to put on a Varése album. I hadn't heard anything quite like it, but I fundamentally got it. Sound composition, sounds over melody. 

In my students' defense, they are barraged with information in a way I was not. To criticize my students, especially the composition majors: show some intellectual curiosity for fuck's sake. I don't remember ever being taught about Messiaen in my college music history courses (a travesty), but his name came up with reference to Boulez, Stockhausen, Xenakis, and others, so yes I was going to check into him. Some (some) of these student composers know Stockhausen's name, but have never listened to a single work. Really? I insist they listen to "Gesang der Jünglinge" if nobody else will. 

A topic of discussion in my class today was, can you find more modern examples of French musique concrète (sampled sounds) or German elektronische musik (all-synthesized sound world). We had a really nice discussion, ranging from Pink Floyd's "Money" (musique concrète)  "Gangnam Style" (a purely elektronische musik sound world outside the vocals). I cited the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" for its use of a tape loop for the drums. 

Before the end of class, there had been an example I had posted prior to class: John Oswald/Plunderphonic's "Net", a take on Metallica. Plunderphonics, as a category, music made of mostly or entirely of sampled sounds from our media landscape. I told Nick, the student I alluded to before, that there was a Plunderphonics group named Stock, Hausen, and Walkman, which gave him a good laugh. 

Nick Fagnilli is a returning student earning is master's in education. I recommend looking up his Facebook page, where regularly posts his "Doom Scrolls", miniature works for piano. 

I bought this record blind from Jerry's, used. I knew from the appearance it was weird enough for my tastes without knowing exactly what it might be. Hamster eating a strawberry on the back cover. "ADD" mastering, which generally meant "analog-digital-digital" but here means, well, the medical version. Even the UPC code is slanted and unreadable, so I knew I had something

Is it entirely sampled material? Maybe. The general material is clearing easy-listening style organ albums. There are some cartoon FX. There's some noise and screaming at the end.

In the case of John Oswald's Plunderphonics, he is generally making a musical or even political point by sampling the materials and reassembling them. In the case of Nurse With Wound's Sylvie and Babs Hi Fi Companion, the point is Surrealism, Dadaism, and absurdism. Reassemble the materials, yes, both to make a point but also to scramble your brain. 

S,H,&W unquestionable comes closer to the latter over the former. At times it's actually catchy, but there's always an underpinning of weirdness, of, "what will come next?"

To quote my friend Victor Grauer, how do you legislate sound? That will be a topic for next week's classes. 

VOTD 9/26/2024

Eduard Artmiev: Solaris OST (Superior Viaduct)

I think I bought this used at Mind Cure Records

I went through a soundtrack-buying jag a few years back, and continue to look for interesting examples. Buying as many as I did, well, they're not all winners. Labels like Mondo/Death Waltz and Waxworks have made available obscure or even otherwise unavailable works, and usually packaged beautifully. The problem is, they're often pretty expensive too. 

It's not that I can't afford it, but even I hesitate to spend $30 (and often far more) for a beautifully packaged piece of vinyl that I'll spin once or twice. As such, I've tried to edit myself a bit, be more particular, choose composers or films that interest me, or if something just strikes me as being especially interesting. 

But then second market vinyl, used, sweetens the deal. And even so I try to be particular, not spend the money just because I have it in hand.

It's fortunate this turned up used. I don't know if this is the case here, but Mike at Mind Cure would sometimes open a new LP he'd bought, put it on in the store so he could listen to it, then would knock a few bucks off the price and sell it as used. I know he did this for the Dawn of Midi album, he told me so. And he got a sale out of me too. Still, not the best business model. 

It was fortunate in this case. I might have noticed this album anyway. If I had noticed the credit on the back: " Music and noise recorded on the photoelectron synthesizer ANS", I might have snagged it anyway (depending on the price).

Solaris for me is unique: I've seen the original film, read the novel on which it's based, bought and listened to the original soundtrack album, and watched the Soderbergh remake. I suppose if I was to complete the set, I should see if the remake soundtrack is available. 

The premise is tantalizing, in part it can only exist in a sci-fi world. There's a distant planet, Solaris, which has been determined to be one giant living organism, a planet-sized brain. When an investigator travels to the planet due to problems, he wakes up next to his dead wife. Clearly Solaris is responsible; but what does the wife simulacrum think?

I will apologize in that in some version it's possible it was a divorced wife and not one who committed suicide, I am blanking on some details. 

But what a concept to explore! It's deeply disturbing.

Andrei Takovsky's original film moves slowly. Very slowly. There's been a descriptor "Slow Films"? Tarkovsky defines the term in many ways. I find it fascinating why some films move very slowly and iIfind them fascinating, and others move faster and I couldn't be more bored. I find myself involved in the empty spaces in conversation in Jim Jarmusch's best films, for example. I didn't care so much for Tarkvosky's Stalker, despite it being lauded by many film fans. But I was on board for this one, maybe because the tenseness of the very situation kept me engaged. 

After seeing the film, I read the book. I preferred the film. The author, Stanislaw Lem, I'm told did not like the film at all. But then, how often does the author like the film adaption? (JG Ballard thought Cronenberg's adaption of Crash was more extreme than his book! And I don't think he meant it as a put-down.) I found Lem's narrative got too bogged down in trying to create (pseudo-)scientific explanations for how this being could occur. I'm not interested in that, to be honest. I wanted to see the exploration of the psychic trauma that would occur under those circumstances. 

The music. There's an organ theme opening, not at all this obscure electronic instrument noted on the cover. It's a lovely, slow theme, sounding like Bach (if not the genuine article). This is then followed by the sound of this ANS synth. It's analog, noisy, obscured, textural and ambient. All the things I'd expect from a period-synth playing to a disturbing sci-fi feature. 

I'm completely unfamiliar with the ANS, and I have a pretty reasonable base of knowledge on the topic of early electronic instruments. The 120years.net site (highly recommended!) has a page devoted to the instrument. It dates to 1957 and is indeed Russian, like Tarkovsky and Artemiev. I can't tell you what distinguishes it from other analog instruments of the time, but it does its job.

The organ theme resurfaces on the second side of the album, and there are a few moments of acoustical instruments and even someone singing "Oh, Susanna!" in Russian! I assume that's part of the narrative, I don't remember. the side is still dominated with the electronically generated sounds, which demonstrate timbral variety. 

Both sides are broken up into shorter "movements." The slowly progressing noisy ambient pieces could have gone on longer for me, but I assume it's either the cues as they fit with the timing of the film, or the limitations of LP sides, or both. 

I find noisy ambient, dark ambient, attractive. Sounds that aren't necessarily sweet, have a noise profile, yet aren't harsh and exist in a slowly-moving state. it's why I continue to listen to MB/Maurizio Bianchi, even if his methods are almost ridiculously primitive, and certain of his recordings abysmally bad.

Final note: I'm going to go out on a limb here. Steven Soderbergh was not asking for an easy route by remaking this film. I would have been shocked if it was successful. I liked the film, liked. There was an important plot point I didn't like at all. 

But I will say this: the very conclusion of the film was the best of the three, in my opinion. I'd bet some people would have an issue with that, but I'd defend that opinion. 

My Benny Golson experience

I read that Benny Golson died today. Benny will probably be best remembered for writing the tune "Killer Joe." He was a tenor saxophonist in the hard bop mode, having played with Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers. 

My story:

It was early on in my time at CAPA High School, my second or third year there. We were still occupying the old Baxter High School in Homewood, and were going to the new facility downtown a year or two later.

Benny was appearing at the University of Pittsburgh Jazz Seminar that year. They would send one player every year in those days; some from other years included Larry Coryell, Abraham Leboriel (twice), Lew Soloff (the best of all of them), and British saxophonist Peter King, a real bebopper. 

Having a period free and due to unreasonable pressure on the part of a student saxophonist at the time, I was assigned one year to run a jazz quartet ensemble. I'm not mentioning a name because this student, who I think is a high school music teacher now, was to put it bluntly, an asshole.

We found out in advance that Benny Golson was coming to visit from the seminar. In the promotional material sent to us in advance, it was claimed that Benny was the "only living composer" to have written ten jazz standards. I thought, hold on there! Ten? There aren't ten that could possibly be considered standards. Three, four on the outside. Then I thought, what about Sonny Rollins? Wayne Shorter?

The saxophonist in the student quartet said, "I want to play 'Along Came Betty.'" If you don't know, that's a pretty difficult tune. I said, okay, I'll give you the chart for that, on the condition that you learn to play one of Benny's tunes by memory for him.

At the time I had a copy of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers' Moanin' on CD, which I mistakenly lent to the drummer in that group. Mistakenly, because he never returned it, AND he said he already had a copy. Years later he was shot to death in Aces and Deuces Lounge in the Hill District. To be sardonic, I guess I'm not getting my copy back. 

There's a tune on that album by Benny: "Blues March." It didn't seem too difficult to transcribe. So we spent a class or two writing it down. I probably did at least half of the work to get it down, but the students did help and they learned to play it by memory.

When Benny came to CAPA, he sat and listened to the quartet play the tune we transcribed. He then talked about growing up in Philadelphia with John Coltrane. He and the quartet then played "Betty", commenting that I had given them the correct changes (thanks to John Wilson's student fake book). 

And...that was it. Frankly he was a bore and played very little. 

I was given tickets to the Jazz Seminar concert that night. They kicked into "Killer Joe" and my wife, having heard that song several hundred times on the radio and in concert, groaned in disbelief. "No, not that song!" I told her, "He wrote it. He has the right to play it." Nonetheless, the concert was pretty boring and we left mid-way through. 

I guess there's little point to this blog post other than to document my experience. But maybe also to say, don't be too much into yourself, and don't be boring. 

PS: I left out a detail from the CAPA afternoon. We were on the bottom floor, where the auditorium was. Some student, not for the first time, had urinated on a hot radiator downstairs. The entire bottom floor hallways absolutely reeked of urine. I had a suspicion who was responsible but nothing more. 

So please...don't be too much into yourself, don't be boring, and don't pee on hot radiators. That last piece of advice might be the best but most obvious.

Stream OTD 9/22/2024

 David Bowie: Station to Station (RCA)

Streamed over the Hoopla app. Get it! It's great!

I was never much of a Bowie guy. In high school I had my yard sale copy of Diamond Dogs based in large part to the single "Suffragette City" which is pretty catchy. But I largely didn't like the album.

Much later, he had a huge hit with Let's Dance, a MTV-era danceable record that cleaned up his image. He may have been slender and even a shade effeminate, but that bisexual stuff, no way. To me, he seemed like someone who was hopping on one trend after another with little originality.

I can't still consider myself a big fan, but my opinions have softened over the years. (Age? Am I right?) I checked out the CD box set from the library that included the original mix of this album, and a 2016 remastering. The latter version might not be perfect, but the mix is arguably superior. 

I still wasn't 100% sold, though I was warming up to it. I'll add my daughter is a huge Bowie fan. We bought her tickets for what turned out to be his final appearance in Pittsburgh. Later my wife said, why didn't we go too?

Two weeks ago I went to the dollar sale downstairs at Jerry's Records. One thing I spent one whole dollar on was a bootleg DVD of a practice session of this band on stage. I watched it before turning it over to my daughter.

Jerry's didn't have a used CD copy of this album There was a vinyl copy, but I didn't feel like paying $30. 

Impressions?

I like the melodica on "Station to Station" and "Golden Years", a sound later echoed on the first two Gang of Four records, which I really enjoy. 

The opening of the title track has some of the best several minutes on any Bowie record I imagine, and he doesn't sing on them. It's great even when he begins singing: "The return of the thin white duke, throwing darts in lovers' eyes". What does it mean? Is it a reference to his heavy cocaine habit at the time? I don't know, but it's a poetic line. But then the song keeps going and becomes a different song. Not into at first, but it builds well and okay, it's worth ten minutes. 

Because I can't speak with authority on Bowie records, I can't say it this is any more influenced by African-American funk and soul records than any other. But it's pretty obvious. "Golden Years" is straight up white soul. 

For all his emoting, "Word on a Wing" bores me. Sorry. Sappy, overplayed/oversung. 

"TVC15" however, is one of David's best moments to me. It starts modestly enough, with an "oh oh oh oh oh" blues voice that seems like old-school r'n'b.  Leading into the chorus, "Transition, transmission" is a great line. Then the chorus his hard. Almost frightening. "Oh my TVC-15!" Is it reference to the radio? I don't know. I could take the effort to look, but won't. 

That brings me back to "Stay." Clearly African-American influenced. In a different setting, different arrangement/singer/instrumentalists, wouldn't be too far out of place on a Funkadelic album. It rocks as hard as anything on this album. For as great as "TVC15" and "Golden Years" might be, this is the highlight of the album. It's played with verve by his backing band. 

While that song is the album's apex, "Wild is the Wind" is the closer. I was surprised to find that Dmitri Tiomkin is credited as that composer. I Dmitri as a film composer, one of the many composers to work with Hitchcock (Dial "M" for Murder). I'm finding it was a song written for the film of the same title, and recorded by Nina Simone years before this album. So once again I'll assume it's the influence of African-American musicians that places this song on this record. 

VOTD 9/21/2024

 John Coltrane: Both Directions at Once: The Lost Album (Impulse)

Don't remember where I bought this, possibly at The Attic used

Do I listen to something from my collection just to write about it? Maybe, sometimes. Based on my previous posting, where I listed all of the artists I've written about here, there are some significant names missing. It's not that I haven't listened to them in the past two or three years, only that I didn't write something.

A few names: Charles Mingus (probably most significantly), Duke Ellington, György Ligeti, John Coltrane, among others. 

Who is the greatest saxophonist of all time? It's a flawed question by its very nature. Greatest? This isn't baseball, and even then there can be factors. Shohei Ohtani just set a major record for baseball, 50/50 (fifty home runs, fifty stolen bases). He alone has achieved this. But can this be considered fair, considering the current use of the designated hitter, not having to play a fielding position? 

Don't get me wrong, he's amazing. But it's not fair to compare him to, say, Barry Bonds in 1991. Bonds (pre-juicing) fielded and hit, risked getting hit by pitches and probably did now and then. 

None of this has to do with playing the saxophone or composing. The larger point being, even in circumstances of cold and hard stats, not everything is so easily defined. 

But few, if any, saxophonists were in Coltrane's league. John Gilmore comes to mind. Gilmore said he sounded like Trane before Trane did, and he's not wrong.

John Coltrane does stand apart in general as a musical figure, a saxophonist of staggering ability, while at the same time composing most of his repertoire.

What of this session? It's not the only relatively recent Coltrane discovery, but the last(?) full studio unreleased album?

It's very good but admittedly very similar to other early-to-mid era Impulse sessions for Trane. Pre-Ascension, pre-Pharoah, Alice. 

Over its four sides, there are some familiar titles: "Nature Boy", "Vilia" (a favorite of mine), "Impressions", "One Up, One Down". More significant are untitled originals, which was only given some sort of index number "Untitled original 11383" for example). These lean heavily into minor blues. 

Worth a listen? Hell yes it is. Essential? Hmm...that would mean putting it nearly at the same level as with A Love Supreme, Coltrane, Ballads, John Coltrane and Duke Ellington, and I just can't do that. It is absolutely worthy of your time, but my suspicion is that if arrangements had been made to release this during his life, much of the material would have been cut.

While there are many LPs of outtake material (i.e Ornette Coleman's Art of the Improvisors and Twins) they wouldn't know the CD format to come in the future and how many unreleased tracks would see public consideration.

All I can say is that I am grateful some of my outtakes are not available.  Yeesh, I feel unsatisfied with enough of my recordings I have seen released. 

Coltrane, even the outtakes, is always worth the time.