Matching Mole: Matching Mole's Little Red Record (CBS)
I don't remember where I bought this.
I suppose one of the pleasures of a sizable collection of LPs and CDs is not remembering that I owned something. Have I bought duplicates of anything unintentionally? Not many things, but it's true. There are some records that come in series, such as the Spectrum series on Nonesuch, that have covers similar enough that I don't always remember if I have a particular issue. I've learned, yes I probably do have a copy, and even if I don't, don't spend the money unless it seems essential.
I knew this record from my college radio days. I can't recall if I was told or read about it, or if I came across it in my thorough hunting through the WRCT record library. The attraction would have been Robert Wyatt's name primarily.
It's poignant that I think Robert's best work is after he became a paraplegic. He drunkenly fell out of a building, losing the use of his legs. If he sounds like he has the saddest voice ever heard, he's certainly earned it.
If you didn't know, Matching Moles is a play on the name of his former band Soft Machine (I mean itself a direct WS Burroughs reference). In French, the name is "machine molle." There's no hiding their political leaning, both the title and the blatantly Maoist cover painting of the band. This in itself seems amazing given the current times politically. Not that this music could attract the attention of even a minor subsidiary of a major label now, but the blatantly Communist images would have been a non-starter. I mean, you could find some way to get it released in this form, but my guess is you'd be on your own.
Somewhat similar to Soft Machine, the music sits in a place somewhere between Canterbury-scene prog leanings and jazz-rock. It's a good record but I get the sense that CD length might have done them well on this. A little more room to stretch might have done the music some good, but who knows? Maybe the LP length reeled them in from going too excessive, kept the results tighter. The group only lasted as long as two LPs before disbanding, Robert's accident happening later.
There are some odd touches to this that says it's a studio project and not simply a document of the band playing, specifically quiet voices speaking in spots in groups. Brian Eno makes a synth appearance on side two. There's an odd, slight pitch shift and what sounds like a loop near the end of side two that's a studio creation for sure. The pieces run together and are generally not discreet songs, making identification difficult. At moments, when Robert's singing, the music wouldn't have been out of place on Rock Bottom.
I don't recall if I noticed that Robert Fripp is credited as producer. This would have come at an interesting time for him too, in that general time frame when the Boz Burrell/Mel Collins/Ian Wallace band was winding down, and the Wetton/Cross/Bruford/Muir lineup was forming.
Robert Wyatt is an excellent drummer, by the way. I'm not fond of how the drums are recorded/produced here, they sometimes sound flat and almost muted at times. Maybe it's an accurate capture of his sound. I can't strike it up to the state of the art of recording though; Bill Bruford's drum set always sounded amazing on Yes records: tight and snapping. I even believe the first problem with Tales From Topographic Oceans is Alan White's dead and thuddy-sounding kit.
I am starting to wonder again if I'm running out of steam on this blog, whether I really have anything to say and it's not just an empty exercise. However, if it meant I picked out this record for a good re-listen, then at least there's that.
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