Listening April 16

 Bernard Herrmann: Torn Curtain, The Unused Score (Varèse Sarabande, on CD)

When asked, and probably many times when I haven't been, I've declared Bernard Herrmann as my favorite film composer. Ennio Morricone's stock has risen for me in more recent years, particularly his crime/giallo/horror soundtracks. If asked now, I'd probably give the same answer: Herrmann.

(I've doubtlessly mentioned this before, but I strongly recommend the Morricone 2 CD collection Crime and Dissonance on Ipecac Records. There are none of the "hits" on it, mostly some of the stranger cues from his various soundtracks. I say mostly because there are things like some solo organ and violin that might seem more "normal", except when sandwiched in between two weirder selections.)

I've just finished reading Steven C. Smith's book Hitchcock and Herrmann: The Friendship and Film Scores That Changed Cinema. I recommend it if you are interested in the topic. While there's just enough biographical information on both men, the majority of the text has to do with their working and friendly relationship, and the resulting scores. My only quibble would be that there's a lot of description of musical elements when I would have liked to have seen more examples. Cleary it was written with non-musicians in mind, but I would have found scored examples of Herrmann's "bitonal" chords (a term that turns up more than a couple of times) more useful than a text description. That's just my perspective. 

If you're a film buff and have followed Hitchcock's work, I guess it's a question of what you believe his best film(s) might be. There are some standouts pre-Herrmann: Suspicion, Shadow of a Doubt, Notorious, Strangers on a Train (a personal favorite), Rear Window. Can there be any doubt that the Hitchcock/Herrmann years were nearly consistently great though? The Trouble With Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much (the remake), The Wrong Man, Vertigo, North By Northwest, Psycho, The Birds, Marnie. At least three true classics and all at least worth watching. With the exception of The Birds (which has no musical score), all enhanced by Herrmann's music.

The only Oscar nomination for either man during this era went to Hitchcock for directing Psycho, which he didn't win. It demonstrates just how wrong such awards can be, how short-sighted. Herrmann won a single Oscar in 1942, beating himself for Citizen Kane. Of his other four nominations, two were posthumous. Nothing for The Day the Earth Stood Still, Hangover Square, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.

It's ridiculous. I could go on.

In this disc, we have the full reading of the score that broke Hitchcock and Herrmann's working and personal relationship. A major factor was studio pressure on Hitchcock to have a pop music hit derived from the film. The Man Who Knew Too Much had a major hit single in with Doris Day singing "Que Sera, Sera". There were attempts to adapt the themes for Vertigo and Marnie into pop singles, with no success. Hitchcock himself also feared both a financial failure at the box office, and a lack of relevancy. He stood by Herrmann against the studio's wishes, but asked the composer to compose something lighter and more "beat" orientated. 

What he got was a brooding Bernard Herrmann score. Hitchcock stopped the recording mid-session, fired Herrmann on the spot, and never spoke more than a couple of words to him for Herrmann's remaining years. There were other examples provided in the book that when Hitchcock fired or had a conflict with you, that was it. You were done with him. When Tippi Hedron asked for a few days off during the shooting of Marnie, Hitchcock was so incensed that he only directed her through intermediaries for the remainder of the shoot.

On the one hand, I don't know what Hitchcock expected. He hired Bernard Herrmann and that's what he got. On the other, Herrmann probably shouldn't have accepted the assignment. Everyone would have seen how inferior the project was without his contribution. But he was desperate for work at the time, especially considering he had proverbially burned all of his bridges in Hollywood at the time. Nobody wanted to work with him.

Herrmann saw a late career boost from Francois Truffaut, hiring Herrmann to score Fahrenheit 451. Other younger directors followed: Brian DePalma, Larry Cohen, and most importantly Martin Scorsese. He had more work lined up before he died, including Cohen's God Told Me To and DePalma's Carrie. I would have loved to have heard what he did with the latter. My guess is it would have improved that film too. (The library music during the prom queen scene has always irritated me.)

There's an interest take that Herrmann had regarding film orchestration. His idea was, it's really only one performance, so why repeat the same ensemble each time? Even his most standard orchestration, the string orchestra for Psycho, becomes more interesting when you know that the monochromatic color is inspired by the monochromatic palette of the film.

I forget the exact orchestration he used here, but it was on the ridiculous side. An orchestra that included twelve flutes. It's heavy on the French horns and trombones, and lower strings. 

Truth is, it's not an exceptional score. Individual tracks often sound like just about any other Herrmann score. Like many audio releases of film scores, taken as a whole it's too much. Here's where I make another recommendation that I've probably made before. Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted the LA Philharmonic in a program of selections from eight of Herrmann's film scores. While in some cases I prefer the original recording (Taxi Driver particularly), as a collection it's much tighter and doesn't have the opportunity to get boring. 

Hitchcock's films were never again as good as that era. It's not necessarily because of a lack of Bernard Herrmann's contributions, but that certainly didn't help. Almost ironically, for his final score for Taxi Driver Bernard composed a beautiful jazz ballad rather in the Ellington/Strayhorn style. While not exactly a pop single, it proved he could write a conventional melody with chords, and a pretty damned fine one at that. I can only speculate what he might have done with Carrie.

Listening April 13 +

For some years, I was associated with WRCT. First as a student, then filling in during summers and breaks. My initial air name was Winston Smith, after the protagonist from 1984. One summer fill in I'd call myself Reverend Ben (I am an ordained Subgenius minister, after all) and would make movie suggestions playing on cable; other times I was just Ben. I also did some work on the old WYEP too.

In my retirement, I've returned to WRCT. It's been over two decades since I was on semi-regularly. I'm going through training again. I don't object, it's been a long time. Some things about being on air are the same, some easier, some have added challenges. But in general it seems to be easier and far less paperwork than in the past. 

Some students take a single hour and just play their Spotify playlist on the air. I find that very disappointing. We're surrounded by algorithms in our digital entertainment choices. I want someone to take to me, demonstrate some knowledge and passion if they're playing music on the air. I want something closer to the experience one would have if you walked into a record or video store, and the clerk makes suggests knowing your tastes. 

One thing has definitely changed: staff is permitted to sign out CDs and records for review purposes. And they are swimming in discs, believe me. As part of my training, I'm required to review a couple of releases to put in the new bin, and the album below caught my eye.

Chris Jonas: backwardsupwardsky: Music From the Deserts (Edgetone Records, double LP)

I met Chris a single time. It would have been....1998 I think. He was playing with the Anthony Braxton Ghost Trance Ensemble (nine pieces, broken down into three groups of three); I opened with my band Water Shed 5tet. It wasn't much more than a hello, we had mutual friends.

So here's Chris decades later. He's leading three groups here; two saxophone/bass/drums trios (one in Santa Fe, the other in Oakland CA), and an Italian quartet that adds a second reed player to the mix. (Chris plays soprano and tenor saxophones.) 

The music is generally spacious and quiet, rather chamber music-like. Nothing falls into standard song forms and hints at free jazz without really veering to deeply into it. There aren't hard-blowing sessions, generally more on the quiet side. there occasionally some heat, but the overall mood is more subdued.

It's not for me to say what I think this album should be, rather what it is. But sometimes....just sometimes...I wish these groups would just bust out more. I've probably made this comment regarding groups I've seen at City of Asylum. So many of the traveling groups I've seen there have had great players, people I'm excited to see. But often, it seems like they're afraid to make some noise, to generate some heat. Drummers who seem shy about HITTING the drums. I don't mean being hard free action constantly, but more dynamics please!

Perhaps an album of pieces inspired by desert landscapes doesn't call for that. The album's good, make no mistake. And there is some heat generated, particularly during the latter half of the album. Maybe it's my desire to experience big contrasts, and anticipating something that isn't here.

Listening April 8 2026

Frank Zappa: Lumpy Gravy (Verve) on vinyl

Years ago, I'm thinking early 1990s, I remember being really excited to find the reissue of the Mothers of Invention's We're Only In It For the Money coupled with Frank Zappa's Lumpy Gravy on a single CD. It was released by Rykodisc. I knew WOIITFTM from a reel to reel tape my father made of borrowed Mothers records, which were current at the time. 

I knew that tape well enough that when I listened to WOIIFTM, I knew something was off. I didn't remember there being slap bass lines on that album, for example. The Rykodisc remasterings are now rather notorious for Frank's fiddling. He was known to digitally strip drums and bass from the originals and replace with re-recorded (or possibly even Synclavier-generated) parts. He claimed that the original master tapes had deteriorated, but that doesn't explain why only rhythm section parts were replaced. As far as he was concerned, they were better, why should we complain?

While Frank's music has been very important to me, this is a side of his personality I don't like. Whether or not the parts could be improved, it's highly disrespectful to the original musicians to simply toss their performances aside. Yes he was the boss, yes he expected perfection at an almost inhuman level, but the recordings were what they were and have historical value. 

I'm reminded of a story in which Frank was having a woodwind quintet performed. The group couldn't play the piece to perfection, which was doubtlessly extremely difficult. His solution: set up microphones in front of the musicians, and play a Synclavier rendering of the piece while the group pantomimed performing. He claims nobody could tell it wasn't live, which I question. And besides, the audience got to hear the piece. If I was there and figured out what was going on (I'd like to think I'd be able to tell), I would have been angry.

On the Rykodisc reissue, I've read today that the Lumpy Gravy half was pretty much left unaltered. Nonetheless, I've recently bought an original issue of the album and that's what I've been spinning.

I've been reading about the history of this album, which I'll sum up but is easily located on Wikipedia. Frank was signed to Verve (a division of MGM) but received a commission of "orchestral music" from an A&R rep from Capitol Records. The result, the original version of Lumpy Gravy, was released as a "four track tape" (I assume reel to reel) very briefly before MGM sued. Frank's rationale: He doesn't play on the album, only conducts the ensemble of largely studio musicians. His contract read that he wasn't permitted to perform on records for other labels. 

Technically, I suppose he's right, but it seems foolish to have expected any other outcome. 

When the recordings were prepared for Verve release, Frank added interjections of people speaking, and musique concrète-isized reworkings of some of the material. There are similar moments on early Mothers albums, so in that respect it's not that far astray from those albums. There's just more of it, but also no Frank vocals or guitar gymnastics. 

As for the ensemble music, there are passages of woodwind clusters, pulseless percussion, and even a few familiar melodies: "Oh No", "Take Your Clothes Off", and a little snippet of "King Kong". 

I was interested to read that the original, unaltered version briefly released by Capitol has been reissued. The Project/Object series were historical recordings, the original albums, which supplemental material. Freak Out! and Uncle Meat were given similar reissues. The Lumpy Money Project/Object might actually be worth hunting down to hear his original intentions for the work.

Additional note: Lumpy Gravy's cover names him as Francis Vincent Zappa. This isn't correct. His birth name was Frank. But then Elvis Presley's birth certificate middle name is Aron. It's spelled Aaron on his grave marker.

Today's listening etc

The New York Times had an article regarding Morton Feldman this past week, reminding the readers that 2026 is the 100th anniversary of his birth. That fact escaped me. I've jotted down my thoughts on various Feldman recordings here previously, and I guess I will continue to do so. The article included a comment that John Cage had more significant influence for his ideas, but it's Feldman's music that currently more people want to play. I'd come to the same conclusion. There was also a comment that because he was something of an outsider and not steeped in traditional modern techniques, he was free to pursue a more personal musical language. I suppose that's true. After hearing Amy Williams (quoted in the article) play Triadic Memories, I commented to composer Eric Moe that it took a lot of confidence on Feldman's part to write as little as he did. Eric chuckled and basically said, "Yeah."

There was a three part documentary mini series on PBS recently regarding Henry David Thoreau. It's not a Ken Burns series but he is credited with producing it, and it's not too far astray from his work. Celebrities read passages quoted from subjects: Jeff Goldblum for Thoreau, Ted Danson for Ralph Waldo Emerson, and George Clooney narrating. I enjoyed learning about Thoreau's adamant belief in the Abolitionist movement, and that New England women's groups at the time were highly involved. 

Thoreau's name brought to mind the work below:

Charles Ives: "Concord" Sonata on vinyl (Mainstream) played by Aloys Kontarsky.

The sonata, completed around 1915 and published in 1920, is comprised of four movements: "Emerson", "Hawthorne", "The Alcotts", and "Thoreau". I doubt I'll ever get around to reading any Thoreau myself, so listening to Ives' dedication is about as close as I'm going to come.

What of the work? I think I've made this comment about other works previous, but it often hangs in an ambiguous state somewhere between being tonal and atonal. I can perceive passages that sound polytonal, particularly in the second half. Ives being Ives, the second movement in particular quotes a familiar melody ("Columbia" I think it is) and collages in a church chorale of some sort. In general there's a feeling of post-Romanticism. It's not "cool" music for the most part.

Which makes "The Alcotts" stand out all the more. The gentlest of the four movements, it opens with a lovely chorale-like passage that demonstrates Ives' abilities in writing music that's closer to being triadic. It doesn't stay there through the entire movement, and indeed Ives occasional tosses in a high-ranged note that's completely ill-fitting with the harmony at the time. The opening of the movement, I heard the potential of some sort of larger jazz ensemble extraction/arrangement. And wouldn't you know it? I was just reading that Bruce Hornsby quotes the beginning of this movement in one of his songs, "Every Little Kiss". He said he was almost sued for it. Listening to it now, it's not a direct quote but clearly derived from Ives' sonata. Barry Manilow directly quoted Chopin, but I guess too much time had elapsed for anyone to threaten civil action in that case.

What is that elusive line dividing tribute, quote, and plagiarism? How do you legislate a chord progression? Or sound in general? Ives himself liberally and directly quotes many other works in his pieces. I don't think anyone has ever accused him of stealing; if anything, it's an element that distinguishes him from other composers of his time.

All I know is that I don't have answers to those questions.

Today's listening

Public Image Ltd: The Flowers of Romance (WB) on vinyl

I'm currently on my second spin of this record, which I'd never heard in full before. I suppose it's notorious in the PIL catalog. It was recorded after the departure of bassist Jah Wobble, but before PIL would take a more commercial direction. That's relative of course, John Lydon was never destined to be a traditional pop star. 

I'm only modestly interested in in PIL. Their first LP has a few banger tracks, particularly "Annalisa"; "Fodderstomp" is also wonderfully abrasive. I remember really liking the opening track of this record ("Four Enclosed Walls") from my college radio days, and it's even possible I spun it once myself. Highly spare, it's mostly a heavy drum beat accompanying John's wailing vocals, with some occasional backwards instruments and other assorted sounds. I enjoy its starkness. It sounds deliberate, like they're leaning into the idea of no bass and fewer instruments in general.

Most of the rest of the album doesn't live up to the promise of that track. There was a single generated from this, "Flower of Romance", which amazingly charted in the UK. I'm reading the mix is different than the LP version. It's still an oddity, a drone piece with a Middle Eastern sound to it. 

Maybe it's not fair, but I think what this record could have been rather than what it is. There are too many tracks that sound like studio screwing around, and deserved more attention and development. Time is money though, especially in the studio. "Banging the Door" is the only other cut that I find really sounds completed, and it's the fullest production of the bunch: voice and drums, bass, synth drone, synth effects, and probably other things mixed in. 

What's clear was that this wasn't a sustainable direction for the band. Soon no original members save Lydon would remain. Is this the logical end of earlier PIL records or a side avenue? Am I going to have to buy a copy of their second album now and decide? I don't have to buy it of course. At least my curiosity about this one is sated.

The copy, used from Jerry's Records, is very clean. I'm guessing it didn't get too many plays before I purchased it.

Today's listening, etc

How's it going? I guess I write that any time I return after an extended absence.

After many delays for no particularly good reason, I have finally released the third Thoth Trio studio album Three. It's available on my Bandcamp page (benopie.bandcamp.com, naturally). I'd rather put copies in hands in person for those who still buy CDs, but you do have the added advantage on that site of being able to stream and download the pieces. 

The sessions were held over two days. We recorded nineteen works, eighteen of which I plan to issue. Nothing was played twice with the possible exception of one false start. I intend to release the other half of the session later this year, and there's talk of a possible Thoth Trio LP in the future.

Also scheduled for full release this Friday is the new Microwaves LP, Temporal Shifter. It's available at https://decoherence.bandcamp.com/album/temporal-shifter. Like a previous LP, I appear on one cut and will appear at their release show this coming Friday. I mean, eight full albums (or is it nine? or more?) plus several EPs. They hit hard, and aren't easy. (I guess I'm saying it anyway, but I'm trying to avoid the word "weird".) But I like a nice challenge and find it fun to play with them.

As for some recent listening:

I recently sprung for the recent four-CD set of William Basinski's Disintegration Loops. CD set: relatively cheap; LP set: not so much. The CD format is really the appropriate one for these works considering their length. I admit I like it better when the loops disintegrate relatively quickly, which even then takes a long time. 

On the same shopping trip: an old copy (not the more recent double LP version on Mondo) of Ennio Morricone's The Big Gundown. I've written before that it's Morricone's crime, horror, and giallo scores that are my favorites. It's still a very good work, albeit perhaps not as memorable as some of the portions of his Serge Leone scores. 

But tonight:

Tui St. George Tucker: Indian Summer (Three Microtonal Anitphons on Psalm Texts) on Opus One

This came up at Jerry's Records from what I believe was one of two major collections of new music and jazz they had then recently purchased. Whoever owned it must have had a breakout section for Opus One Records in his collection (is there little doubt it's a he?), because there's a sticker with the catalog number on the plastic outersleeve. I also left the price sticker that I paid: $5.

Seeing this: Opus One? Sure I'll check it out. The word "microtonal" in the title? And $5? Guaranteed sale for me. Plus, a female composer completely unknown to me. There are few recordings available and even the webpage under her name hasn't been supported. I had to think of her name as I reached for this on the shelf..."there was a 'St." in her name, right?"

Who was TSGT? All the discogs page reads was that she was an "American composer and recorder player and instrument developer." There is a Wikipedia page that provides more details. It sounds as though I should try to seek out some of these other recordings of her music.

What of this work? It is indeed microtonal, sounding like it's written for quarter-tones. It's set for seven instrumentalists and two baritone voices. The entire piece takes place over a pedal tone, the same perfect fifth through the entire work. The use of quarter tones is clearly intentional, which can be a challenge with microtonal music: does it sound "correct" or is it just out of tune? TSGT uses those "in-between" notes more as passing tones; ultimately, resolutions are made in consonance with the pedal tone. "Antiphonal" is an appropriate term, as melodies are echoed from a lead instrument or voice among the other instruments. Despite the quarter-tone nature of the composition, it evokes Medieval music. The lead instrumental voice through much of the work is the bassoon, further bringing to mind so-called "Early Music".

It's not what I would describe as exciting music, it has a coolness to it. But then I've recently spent hours revisiting Disintegration Loops, for which I would say something similar.

Interesting what turns up...and what I might have ignored if the right record label and word on the cover hadn't caught my attention. 

Today's listening

 Daniel Le Blanc: Behind the Green Door OST (Mitchell Brothers Film Group)

I guess I'm going back from my intention of posting weekly reports to an occasional missive. Whatever, nobody's paying me to do this.

It's no secret to anyone reading here regularly of my interest in soundtrack music, and that extends into the world of pornographic features. (If anything, Italian cannibal movies are probably less reputable.) Indeed, the three movies that defined the "porno chic" of the 70s, Deep Throat, The Devil in Miss Jones and Behind the Green Door, all had original music. I've written about DMJ on this site before, and it stands out as the best music of the three. Better still is some of the music Bernard Purdie provided for Lialeh, but that's a story for another time.

It goes to show, the story of those films is far more interesting than the films themselves.

When I saw this CD on the shelves of Vinegar Syndrome's Pittsburgh brick and mortar store, I knew I had to check it out. I really didn't know what to expect, having seen the movie more than three decades ago (and honestly not being that impressed by it). 

The sound is...meh. That doesn't come as a surprise. It's probably higher fidelity than the Sex World LP I wrote about a few weeks ago. I suspect there's some AI processing? It's nothing more than a suspicion. I dislike that I even have to suspect such things. 

It's fair to say I wouldn't pay much attention to this were it not for its origin. To their credit, the musicians are mentioned by name; I don't know if this is the case in the movie credits themselves. Much of it is light and folky, strumming guitars, some simple violin playing in minor keys. Maybe that's appropriate for San Francisco c.1972. There's some early synth in there, perhaps a Moog modular? Some light funk, but you know, what do you expect from a porn soundtrack?