VOTD 1/7/2023

 George Russell & The Living Time Orchestra: The African Game (Blue Note)

Purchased at The Government Center

This has been sitting on me "to do" pile for some time now, and I was wondering why I'd been waiting? Then I remembered, oh yes, the needle was skating on the surface of the record, and I needed to replace it.

Now that I've made that necessary replacement, time to dig into this.

The lineup: more or less a traditional big band, with augmented rhythm section. The names in the credits are largely unfamiliar to me, with the exception of Bruce Barth on keyboards.

I'll confess that I only got a few pages into George Russell's book, Lydian Chromatic Concept of Tonal Organization. I keep meaning to return to it, but then I also think, is it really going to do me any good? Still, one day.

Russell is very good composer. He is especially good at coloration, both instrumentally and harmonically. This session dates to 1985. It sounds to me similar to what composers active in that era were doing, except George was at least a generation older.

The album is defined as having nine "events," which overall maps out the history of the world (?). "Organic Life on Earth Begins," "The Paleolithic Game," "Consciousness," etc.

My complaints with this record have more to do with my own personal tastes and preferences as anything specific criticisms. Russell has expanded a standard-sized big band/stage band. I'm not particularly a fan, and I think fewer players would be been preferable. Like I said, that's me.

Most of the soloists aren't particularly interesting, sounding very studio-ish. Saxophonist Gary Joynes comes closest to blowing some fire into "African Empires" on the second side. But then, there's not a room for blowing here. Times are clearly restricted based on LP length. CD length would have probably suited this project better.

Then there's the era. 1985. The keyboards are thoroughly in that FM synthesis period, and it sounds so dated now. That's sometimes one of the problems and even ironies of using current technologies; it can make your work sound dated. I think of the keyboards, and early digital production on Frank Zappa's 1978-1983 period, and it sounds old and brittle to my ears. 

VOTD 1/6/2023

 Etron Fou Leloublan: En Public Aux Étas-Unis d'Amérique (Celluloid)

Purchased new, where? Possibly Tower Records (New York)

Walking past my racks of records today, this stood out and I figured it was as good as anything to spin today. I spent a lot of time in the 80s/early 90s listening to this live LP, and the three studio albums that followed.

Was it Frank Zappa who said, writing about music is like dancing about architecture? Probably not, though it's the sort of acerbic thing he could have said. I can't say I completely agree with the statement, though it is difficult to find the words to describe what this band does. Let's first say that they're in an early trio configuration here: bass/vocals, saxophone, and drums/saxophone. Sound like a familiar lineup to you? This group was definitely an inspiration for my own trio configurations, even if the music is significantly different. 

I lived in Baltimore for two years, 1988-1990. Craving to put something together, I placed an ad in the personals section of the Baltimore City Paper looking to put together a trio based on this group and V-Effect (essentially the same instrumentation). I didn't get anywhere putting a band together, but I was contacted by an existing local band (Instant Siberia, what an 80s band name) that kept me playing most of the time I lived there. I didn't feel close to the music of that band, but they kept me active.

Back to this band's music, how to describe it? Shades of Captain Beefheart I suppose, but drain that music of all blues and substitute a French sense of humor. The music alternatively twists/jerks and grooves. The group is largely centered on Ferdinand Richard's often chord-strumming bass. There is a brief work, specifically for solo drums by Gigou Chenevier (what a name!), and a brief reference to Beethoven's "Für Elise." 

What's evident from this album is that this was a great band live. I assume there's a bit of editing here and there, but the results here sound great. Considering this was recorded in November 1979, I wonder what people thought of the music at that time?

The group would augment to a quartet with the addition of Jo Thirion on keyboard for the next two albums, my favorite being Les Sillons De La Terre of 1984. They also act as the backing band on the first side of Fred Frith's Speechless, his followup to the amazing Gravity on Ralph Records. 

CDOTD 1/5/2023

 Steve Reich: Pulse/Quartet (Nonesuch)

Borrowed from library

I have a pretty substantial personal library of records, discs and tapes. It's not nearly as large as some of my friends', but it's many many hours of information nonetheless. While this writing project of mine is partially for the purpose of forcing myself to go back into my collection and relisten to more of it, I still check things out from the public library.

We have an excellent library system here. I'm sure there libraries that are bigger and better, but our resources (particularly the music collection) can be pretty amazing sometimes. I'm frequently surprised by finding that one score by that one composer I heard on a collection, who I knew nothing about previously.

So here I am, listening to a relatively recent pair of works on CD by Steve Reich, from our public library's main branch. I largely like Reich's music. I'd even say that Music or 18 Musicians is one of the truly great works of the past hundred years.

Reich is a notoriously prickly character. I can't say I know this from personal experience. Maybe it's like I've been reminded by several friends: sometimes it's better not to meet your heroes. I saw Steve Reich and Musicians at a new music festival in 1986, I think was the year. A friend volunteered to push chairs around on stage in order to score tickets that he couldn't otherwise afford. He later said to me after the experience, "I know serialism is out and minimalism is in, but Milton Babbitt is a really nice guy, and Steve Reich is a jerk." 

At least, I think the word he used was jerk. It might have been something harsher.

What am I to make of these late era Reich pieces? I guess it's fair to say late period, as he is currently 86 years old. He may be like Elliot Carter and keep composing for another fifteen years. Maybe I'll reassess in the future. 

I find the music to be neither urgent, nor bad. It all sounds like Reich, though not his greatest works. It's a mistake to try to write a "masterpiece," and it's equally a mistake to expect one as a listener. After all, at his age, hasn't Reich earned the right to sound like Reich?

I give him credit that all of his music doesn't sound exactly alike. For as much as I like some of Philip Glass' music, to my ears he has written very similar works multiple times over. 

Glass came to the CMU Music Department a few years back. Someone asked about the term minimalism, and being so closely identified with it. He said, if you listen to him, or Terry Riley or Fred Rzewski or Louis Andreisson, what's interesting is how different the music of each composer is. Am I the only person to have noticed that he left out Steve Reich's name from that list? The two men have a long history together, having played in each others' groups.

I know Reich bristles at the very term minimalism. It's an opinion I understand; nobody likes categorization, it puts you in a proverbial box. I ask though, what is more minimalist than "Clapping Music"?

Easy call to make: if you know Reich's music and like it, check this recording out. If you don't know it, find the Phases five-CD collection.

VOTD 1/4/2023

 Stormy Six: Macchina Maccheronica (L'Orchestra)

Purchased from Mike Shanley

I'm an old progressive rock kid. The first LP I bought for myself was Kansas' Leftoverture; I think the third was Yes' Close to the Edge. (One of those records has aged better than the other, maybe I'll get around to writing about that some time.) It's not all I listened to as a teenager. I would listen to records from my father's collection, who in turn would make recommendations. Because of that, I knew who the players in the original Louis Armstrong Hot Five before I knew who Led Zeppelin was. It was from his collection I heard Thelonious Monk and Charles Mingus for the first time.

I'd hate to think there was snobbishness on my part, listening to the faux-symphonic recordings of ELP. I did feel like I was distinguishing myself from my peers by listening to things that were "strange." I eschewed punk rock, not that many of my friends were involved with listening to it. I was more impressed with bands that could produce an LP side-long piece. 

Now I understand that's no indication of quality. The accusation of prog rock's "pretenstiousness" is both right and wrong in my view. Yes, there is a pretentiousness to not letting the music fall in a 4/4 groove, or showing off chops more than playing something heartfelt. At the same time, I believe the most pretentious thing you can do is to play publicly and be really bad. I don't mean having an off night, that can happen to anyone. I mean being just plain terrible. That takes some serious self-centeredness to do that.

I still like elements of progressive rock, particular artists. There are some that barely qualify under that banner. I suppose broadly speaking Henry Cow qualifies as prog (some of the time at least), but they had very little in common with the previously mentioned groups. Or, how does one categorize the quirky Etron Fou Leloublan, or Picchio dal Pozzo? Or the crazy virtuosity of Area? Yet, if pressed for a single descriptor, I'd qualify them all as prog.

Which brings me to the Italian group Stormy Six. There are seven players credited on this particular album, one of which is Georgie Born of Henry Cow on cello. The recording dates to 1979, and I might have guessed as much. I might have also guessed they were Italian or French, if I didn't know. They don't sound American. One major reason would be the prominence of the clarinet on this session. He (Leonardo Schiavone) doubles on tenor saxophone too, but it's his clarinet playing that stands out. It's one of the first things we hear from the very start of the album.

The playing is sharp throughout, sometimes sounding challenging without necessarily flashy. I'm enjoying the record as it's playing, but I don't find the music to generally be very memorable. Maybe it's because the band doesn't tend to lean into any particular ideas for very long, musical materials come and go rather quickly. There's a light humor now and then, the music sometimes recalling tangos, marches, or Italian folk songs. 

Prog is such a 70s phenomenon. I guess there are still good examples today, I just don't largely know who they are. And maybe that's fine, that it's a music that was about being European in the 1970s.

VOTD 1/3/2023

 The Pyramids: Birth/Speed/Merging (Ikef)

Purchased at Fungus Books and Records

I've linked this blog on my Facebook page, so now there are more eyes on it. Will that influence my listening? What things might I choose because I know someone will be reading?

Not so much for the time being. I have a small stack of records and discs sitting here awaiting a spin or two, and I really must get to those first. Those include LPs by George Russell, Bonzo Dog Band, and a collection of cabaret songs by Schoenberg; also a CD soundtrack by Claudio Simonetti, and a 3-CD collection by Thomas Dimuzio. 

And this. I bought this last week at Fungus Books and Records, a micro-store in half the space upstairs where the Turmoil Room used to be. Fungus doesn't have a huge collection of records, but it's all prime stuff. The problem is, it's prime and vintage enough that many pieces are just more than I'm willing to spend. Yes it would be cool to have that original Evan Parker LP on Incus Records, but I just won't go as high as $200. And this is to say nothing of the copy of Sun Ra's Atlantis on El Saturn going for $2000. This isn't to complain that they're unreasonable prices given the market, I'm just not enough of a vinyl fetishist to spend that amount. 

I knew nothing about The Pyramids, but I knew it was right from the cover. I'm back to that topic again, whether I know if something is for me based on the name or appearance. Look at the image below to understand. 

This is a reissue copy, originally on their own in-house label from 1976. It's a period of time I find interesting, for both little operations like this (originally) and even bigger labels and artists.

I've just been reading on their Discogs page that the core of the band met at Antioch College in Ohio, while studying with Cecil Taylor. This really brings things closer to home for me, because David Stock told me he was responsible for bringing Cecil to Antioch. (David, who was a long-time Pittsburgh resident, and founder of the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble.)  I think that's not just a story, but a succession of stories. There was one thing David told me that I promised I'd never say publicly, and I'm going to stay by my word. Otherwise, he admired Cecil tremendously, but also told me, "If I don't have any hair today, it's because Cecil Taylor made me pull it out."

Which reminds me that I played a gig in New York alongside Karen Borca, one time bassoonist with the Cecil Taylor Unit (and later in Jimmy Lyons' groups). I told her the Stock quote, and she said dryly, "Cecil made a lot of people want to tear their hair out. Cecil once started practicing in someone's apartment, and it made another tenant jump out the window! Thankfully he was on the first floor."

..none of which has really anything to do with the content of this record. Comparisons can be a lazy way of suggesting a group's sound, but I can't think of an easier way to describe this group as being part Sun Ra Arkestra (sans the charismatic, dominant leader) and the Art Ensemble of Chicago. At times funky, always with a trans-African aesthetic, and a fair amount of free blowing in between some solid composing. All players have their primary instrument with at least one other credit, either percussion or voice. One player (Margo Ackamoor) is mostly on flute. Yes, the dreaded "jazz flute." I don't mind it so much in a situation such as this, or in Sun Ra's ensembles. The flute recalls more ancient wind instruments, and is totally appropriate. 

I like it. It's worth a listen, if this record turns up. I'll definitely come back to it.

VOTD 1/2/2023

 Spine Scavenger: Weighted Ghost (Cylindrical Habitat Modules)

Purchased from Jerry's Records

So here I am again at my laptop, dear reader. Today I've been creating an arrangement of Frank Zappa's "Chunga's Revenge" for OPEK. It's an easy piece, though transcribing it is not made easier by the larger ensemble recording posted to Youtube (from the most recent box set Waka/Wazoo). It's not exactly the right speed/pitch, and even drifts lower and slower before the end of the recording. Maybe I'll skip that purchase. Who knows if I'll get the arrangement played? We have a gig at Con Alma on Feb. 4, stretching the limits of that stage.

I wanted to clear my head with something not so melodic or even nice. I'm something of an old school industrial fan and even power electronics fan. I suppose it's bit of a guilty pleasure. I mean, here I am, teaching at a music conservatory, university trained in performance and education, and I still like abrasive, primitive noisemakers. Go figure.

Spine Scavenger isn't quite those things, more minimal synth sound creation. It's plenty noisy at times, sometimes droney, generally slowly evolving. I wrote the other day about knowing on sight at one time if a record interested me or not; I think I knew this one would be for me on sight. Silk screen cover, credit is synthesizer and tape FX. Okay. 

Spine Scavenger is Aaron Dilloway only. I know very little about Aaron, other than he's one of these guys who was releasing music on cassette before the cassette resurgence of a few years back. He also releases a lot of recordings under a lot of names (with other people I guess). I'll check out more at some point, though part of the reason for writing these blog posts is to make myself listen to the albums that I already have on hand.

CDOTD 1/1/2023

 William Basinski: Noctures (2062)

Purchased at The Government Center

Dear Reader:

I have noticed that I've been getting one or two hits (or more) on each of my blog posts in the past week and a half. So, who could be reading this? Adam? Mike? Someone else? Or is it just me looking at the page to check on it?

I've been writing these posts quickly, with little editing and no preparation. I start during the time the record or CD is playing, but usually continue after it is done. 

As of this writing, I have not yet reposted the link to this blogspot page to social media, but probably will again soon.

Probably like many, I learned about William Basinski from a story on NPR (Weekend Edition, I think) regarding the five-CD release of his Disintegration Loops. That set of pieces, completed coincidentally with the 9/11 attack, involve the playing of analog tape loops and recording the results as the medium itself deteriorates. Some never really seem to break down at all; others slowly but surely change as the magnetic coating falls off the tape surface. It's a brilliantly simple concept, played through in what turns out to be a powerful way.

This CD issue includes two long works: the 41 minute "Nocturnes" from c.1980, and the 28 minute "The Trail of Tears" from 2012. 

I always bristle a little when I hear an interviewer ask an artist about his or her "influences." We both need to acknowledge our influences, but we're also not ruled by them. I say this because I do wonder about the influence of Brian Eno on the next wave of composers who would work in what we more-or-less now call ambient music. (Basinski himself mentions Eno's influence "at a tender age" in notes for his Music for Abandoned Airports.) "Nocturnes" may not sound directly like an unused outtake from Music for Airports, but the methods are (I'm guessing) related. They're both centered on use of analog tape loops. One big difference is that Eno's always sound crisp and clear, whereas Basinski's are intentionally muted, lacking in clarity, sound low tech. Another difference is Eno's overlapped loops nearly always sound harmonious, whereas Basinski's are more chromatically superimposed. It's all long and slow, less process-oriented as Disintegration Loops, dreamy and determinately ambient.

While "The Trail of Tears" isn't as low tech sounding as the previous work, it sounds as though he may still be working from similar sources. I'm certain there's digital technology involved in this work's creation, but sounds still maintain a soft-edged, analog haze. A phrase is repeated many times, giving way to a blending of the sounds into a droning chord. This eventually fades, making way for another long phrase, repeated, in a minor mode that gives it a more sinister tone. That repeats pretty much wholecloth without changes for the remaining minutes of the piece. That makes me wonder what his thought processes were for this piece, as it seems that either it's almost another piece, or that there's an extramusical reason the coda is included.