Bruno Duplant - slow breath (b-boim)

Funny, when I was scrounging around to find a pilferable cover image for this release, I cam upon Richard's write-up, about which I'd forgotten. While I'd been listening to, and enjoying, the disc, it had never crossed my mind that there was anything other than a trombone in play here (with some minor enhancements, perhaps) so when i read his assertions of the core sound having been electronically generated, I immediately began to doubt my ears. Allah knows they've been mistaken often enough, especially in this area where sources can be obscure. In any case, I was heartened to discover they so still occasionally function properly.

Richard gets to much of what's interesting about this release. It's clearly in the Malfatti lineage part from being on his label; I don't thin kit's straying to far afield to consider it at least partially an homage. The question would be: within those quasi-narrow strictures, how does one produce something recognizably one's own? A difficult task but I think Duplant does a fair job at that. The swells are Malfattian on the one hand but deeper and louder than is the elder trombonist's wont. The attacks vary subtly, more softness here and added hint of a growl there. The spacing of the sounds defies easy pattern- recognition; my guess is that it's intuitive with no score or timings but I could easily be wrong. As well the subsidiary sounds, the hollow gravelly rumbles and gentle taps establish a lovely space adjacent to the one carved out by the trombone.

It's wetter than Radu's work and substitutes a certain looseness for the master's precision but, qualitatively, it sits comfortably beside that work and is a thoughtful, clear and sensuous experience. Highly recommended.

b-boim
also available from Erst Dist

Eva-Maria Houben - druids and questions (Edition Wandelweiser)

I've been listening to this recording quite often over the past few weeks, including a couple of days (like today) when it's the only thing I'm playing. I absolutely love it though explaining why--why this particular recording works for me so well--is, as usual, a little tough.

One work, an hour long, consisting of "electro-acoustic music with organ sounds". Had only the latter been indicated, I wouldn't have raised an eyebrow as almost all of what one hears sounds as though it could have been generated by adapted organ pipes. The passages, full but soft, embedded in a quieter hiss, are airy and breathy with a tracery of organ-tone within, the kind of sound I imagine could be conjured up by allowing more air to escape a pipe than normal. What other sounds are incorporated i couldn't say though I get a hint of traffic now and then; but that traffic, if it is such, sounds like it could have been organ generated as well.

No matter. The wavelets of sound appear in succession, held for a bit, differently lengthed, interposed with periods of near silence, a form one might more or less expect from Houben, fitting in quite well with the Wandelweiser aesthetic. And yet it stands apart, very beautifully and strongly.

On the left inside of the packet is written, "Listening to Charles Ives, The Unanswered Question", on the right, "Yet a Druidic Difference/Enhances Nature now" - Emily Dickinson. The Ives is a high favorite of mine and, once posited, making a connection between the gently keening tones created by Houben and the searching trumpet in the older piece isn't difficult. Perhaps it's, in part, that quality that's so moving, that blending of calm and subsurface agitation limned in the Houben, the breathing sequence, not regular but also not panicky, and the unease beneath. I can't say I know from druids more than the man on the street and have no notion how they mingle here.

The music has a huge tinge factor, coloring one's room, seemingly fading away but always maintaining a crucial presence that one registers from time to time as things around you suddenly leap into a different focus than before.

Wonderful work, endlessly listenable, affording new discoveries every time.

Wandelweiser
available from ErstDist

Richard Chartier - Transparency (Performance) (LINE)

There's this amazing-seeming thing called the Grand Tonometer pictured here, built by the physicist Rudolf Koenig in the 1870s, consisting of 692 tuning forks, designed to elucidate the range of frequencies over some four octaves.

Chartier has taken recordings of the device to construct this lovely work. As one might expect, the general sound-world is one of shimmers, layered tones usually without the initial strike, though that bit of percussiveness surfaces now and then, a very beautiful effect. There are other subsidiary rumbles and noises, the whole embodying a complexity not immediately apparent. There's something almost stately about the way it proceeds; one picks up something of the ceremonial, as though witnessing a rite of some kind. I'd love to have witnessed this live but am happy enough to have this document, a unique and beautiful recording.


Seth Cluett - Objects of Memory (LINE)

Five pieces with widely varying instrumentation but fitting into a common aesthetic, quiet, pensive, with, at their best, a nice subtle tension. "objects in stillness", for bassoon, viola, guitar, percussion and four sine tones, exemplifies this approach well, a sandy, drone-like piece that never rests easy, but diffuses slightly along its path. It also illustrates what I find lacking about some of the pieces, a kind of papery thinness that I might normally enjoy but here, often, find a tad insubstantial. The second work, for amplified paper, bowed vibraphone, bass drum and compressed air gets past this and works very well; the occasional grounding by the soft, thick sound of the drum no doubt helps but the textures as well integrate in a manner I hear as more delicious and sexy, if you will, than on the prior piece. The next work, for three guitars, electric bass and four sine tines, drifts back toward the territory marked out but the first, though smoother given the sources. Again, while pleasant, I felt the need for more grain, more toughness, however disguised.

Gears shift a bit for "doleros", a documentation of an installation at the Diapason Gallery in Brooklyn, delicate (and lovely) clinks playing off against a flux of gentle drones, the latter varying in texture, quietly surging forth and ebbing. Ambient voices and harsher clangs make a welcome appearance just as the near-twenty minute piece concludes; might have preferred such action earlier but the work hangs together well enough as is. The final and longest track, at 26 minutes, is a live performance involving cassettes and sine tones. It's the most purely drone-based work here, the pulsing (and attractive enough) sines offset just a bit by some rumbling beneath. It's a work one would much rather experience live where personal movement would effect the sounds perceived. On disc, there's once again a lack of depth, some gap I need filled.

There's much good music here but I can't shake the feeling that everything could be tightened, dirtied up a bit or otherwise somehow enhanced. I'd be curious to hear more from Cluett down the line.


Seth Horvitz - Eight Studies for Automatic Piano (LINE)

Impossible not to think of Nancarrow while listening to Horvitz' collection though in terms of the actual music heard, there seems to be a sliding toward Reich (with, as noted in the text one can read here Tenney serving as intermediary). Not sure if I'm imposing foreknowledge, but the use of a Disklavier imparts a subtle amount of cleanliness, if not slickness, to the proceedings that's mildly offputting; my analog soul prefers some irregularities and roughness that a paper roll and metal and wood piano can supply. Given that, though, the intricacies of the compositions are impressive and sonically overwhelming in the sense of the impossibility of a human to manage these scores with such precision. An yet, one wishes for more of a purely musical nature to balance the precision. Sometimes I had the impression of a mechanical Andriessen or Adams--much form, less of musical or, really, sonic interest. The barely-tamed wildness of Nancarrow is absent, subjugated to technical mastery. The final cut, "Strumming Machine", clearly nods toward Charlemagne Palestine but refuses to acknowledge his excesses which, after all, are a large part of his most successful music. More grit, please.


Steve Roden - Proximities (LINE)

Nice idea. Roden, using a text by Donald Judd, selected a sequence therein of the letters A through G, recorded them on an old Paia Oz, played back the result,at dawn, in a gallery of some 50 of Judd's sculptures in Marfa, recording it all on a digital recorder, an iPhone and a micro-cassette recorder. One has the sense of other exterior sounds bleeding through though perhaps they're artifacts of the devices themselves. In any case they're a welcome tonic to the thick, syrupy (in a good sense) mini-organ tones, scraping and scouring them. It's 42 minutes is sometimes in danger of palling, but those background sounds buttress the Paia Oz, supplying the necessary tension, even dominating the affair on occasion. Toward the end, one hears a cascade of marvelous, hollow pings, which Roden identifies as the Judd sculptures themselves, expanding in the growing warmth of the room as the sun rose and beamed through the glass-sided enclosure. A lovely way to end.


Asmus Tietchens - Soirée (LINE)

Wherein Tietchens takes pieces he's done in the past and "recycles" them, subjecting them to some kinds of iterative processes and presenting the 10th iteration of eight works on this recording. He asks, "Confronted with the variety of the results I ask myself: Is it really necessary to create further new electronic music if only one piece as a nucleus is sufficient to derive hundreds and hundreds of different distinct individual variants?" Well, I've no idea about the general question and don't know Tietchen's prior work nearly well enough to discern whether the results here are as rich as the originals or offer glimpses that they didn't, so I can only take these at face value. The music ranges from pieces with echoes of 60s tape collage to sparer, spacier works like "p1" that contain (refreshingly) too many gasps to ooze into anything too Eno-esque. Elsewhere, one almost has a sense of reworked field recordings, which may well be the case. The music is slippery in an odd way, giving hints of form and structure but quickly evaporating. It doesn't leave a strong image in my memory, but a pleasant enough tinge, like a blurred photo.

LINE

Lee Noyes/Radio Cegeste - to orient themselves with coastlines (idealstate)

Radio Cegeste is a project created by Sally Ann McIntyre which involves site-specific recordings of a "micro radio station", in this case operating on a hilltop near Dunedin, New Zealand. It seems to comprise the bedrock of this fascinating disc; what else is mixed in, by Noyes and perhaps McIntyre, is hard to distinguish, though I take it a broken accordion is one such (and a lovely element, at that). Whatever the case, the results are quite fine, varied within these radiophonic parameters and flow beautifully. Had this emerged from N[Q], I wouldn't have been surprised. There's a similar level of restraint, of allowing the phenomena to stand on their own for extended periods, a minimum of overt manipulation or gestural activity. Snatches of voices, a violin melody (I recognize it, but can't place it), swarms of other generally low-key detritus come and go, very much giving the sense of drifting by, being momentarily captured, then going on their way.

A very fine recording, recommended.


and/also - like also and any (idealstate)

and/also being Noyes on percussion and Stuart Porter on alto sax. More of a post-free jazz session with Porter, especially, sticking in more (relatively) traditional frameworks, recalling Braxton among others, with something of the plaintive quality of Marion Brown (and McPhee, too). Noyes moves things in a Prevostian direction and, once in a while, Porter follows suit but mostly stays in a fairly non-extended area, creating something of an oil and water effect, which actually does work on occasion but more often sits uncomfortably for this listener. He seems like a perfectly sound player but, given my predilections, it's hard for me to get too excited about this kind of venture. Well played on its own terms though.


Lee Noyes - Xiàzhì (idealstate)

Solo Noyes, one live track and two studio, from 2011. Extremely quiet for the most part, all electronic as near as I can tell. The lengthy live track is especially impressive, a long trek from the kind of sparse playing I relate sometimes to Rowe (as in his recording with Sachiko) that lays a fine groundwork for some explosions later on, said eruptions not at all sounding forced or requisite, more natural bubblings up from the pre-sewn seeds. The subsidence, with its heavy thrum, is an unexpected joy as well. Good, thoughtful work, deserving of more commentary than I can come up with today. Check it out.

idealstate

Haunted House - Blue Ghost Blues (Northern Spy)

I don't know Connors' work, in or out of Haunted House, nearly as well as I should, having seen him but two or three times and only heard the early Erstwhile release by the group and a handful of solo projects of his. This recording should go a long way to changing that (and should have been somewhere on my year-end favorites listing; apologies for the omission). The opening track, "Millie's Not Afraid", is one of the more exciting pieces I've heard in recent months, a churning, surging stew of guitars, throbbing percussion and voice. The remaining tracks might not quite approach this height, but they're damn fine. Langille's voice works perfectly hear, the drumming of Murgali (on naf and kanjira) never fails to incite bodily movement and the twinned guitars of Conners and Burnes compliment and mesh in a thick, ropey, chiming mass that should be the envy of many a rock band. Fine stuff, do check it out.

Northernb Spy

also available from Erst Dist


Lasse-Marc Riek - Saison Concrete (Semperflorens)

As the title suggests, an evocation of the seasons via musique concrete means, though not overtly so. It begins slowly and not so distinguished from much other work in this field but gradually coalesces into something thickly mysterious, cavernous and immersive. That depth doesn't last too long though and the rest of the trip, while pleasant enough as it passes, doesn't really hit me so hard, It ends rather too cutely with a snatch of barrel organ (thought the ghost of Breuker appeared for a moment!). Not bad, not essential

semperflorens


Merzouga - Mekong Morning Glory (Gruenrekorder)

Merzouga is Eva Pöpplein and Janko Hanushevsky who together recorded sounds along the Mekong River through Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, assembling them into the work at hand. There's a good bit of recognizable music from the beginning, presumably instruments encountered along the way (strings, by and large) reconfigured int he studio, melded with similarly deconstructed bird, engine, water, vocal, bell, urban and other sounds. There is indeed a strong sense of structure--the pieces don't just meander about but have discernible dynamic variance and blocks of morphing densities. It stands very much in a middle ground between field recordings and composition--a recurring single bass note offset by skittering strings around the 15-minute mark could easily be a near contemporary cello/bass exploration (Johnny Dyani/Abdul Wadud?) with a tweak or two. An interesting approach and it makes for an engaging listen. My main quibble is a general soft focus and lack of rawness, as though events had been "filmed" through a very thin gauze; I wanted a bit more bite.

Gruenrekorder

Keith Rowe/John Tilbury - E.E.Tension and Circumstance (Potlatch)

I'm not sure if all readers are aware of the circumstances surrounding the pair's first recording, "Duos for Doris" (Erstwhile, 2003). The session, set up by Jon Abbey to occur in Nancy and involving no small amount of logistical and personal difficulty was suddenly in danger of not happening at all due to the serious illness of Tilbury's mother. An uncertain day was spent at Rowe's home in Vallet, after which Tilbury called from England to relate that his mother had indeed passed away but that he'd still meet up in Paris and travel to Nancy, a day later than scheduled. The result was a recording that remains right at the very pinnacle of music for this listener.

Not long after came the dissolution of AMM, a bitter affair. It seemed utterly unlikely that Rowe would ever again play with either of his former companions. In 2008, Rowe's own mother, Eileen Elizabeth Charters-Rowe, died. Tilbury, upon learning of the event, re-established contact and eventually suggested that, just as their first duo ended up centering around the passing of his mother, so they perhaps could get together in honor of Rowe's. Happily, that event took place in December, 2010 at Instants Chavirés in Paris.

When I first heard recordings of the concert, I thought of the almost hour-long set as one of searching and finding, the latter taking up most of the second half. I don't think this is really the case though and, on reflection, it's perhaps silly to think that a mere 6-7 year absence would in any way negate the empathy and sensitivity that had been established since the mid-60s and, especially since 1980. I now here it more as a gradual coalescing of elements, something like a pond in which randomly floating elements, via surface tension and other affinities, slowly accrete, soon forming a wonderfully complex and beautiful entity which lingers for a while, before gently dissipating.

The sheer sounds and, especially, their congruence, are amazing. There are several occasions throughout where the mix is simply unique, like nothing you hear anywhere else; such ears these fellows have. Since 2003, Rowe has gone through a couple of fairly substantial changes in his overall approach, from the maximalism one heard in, say, his 2004 dates with Fennesz to the Twombly-esque scratchy sparseness of his recording with Sachiko M to the hyper-dense obscurantism of some sole projects like The Room. In a sense, he seems to jettison much of that, though by no means all, for a more purely organic interaction, not fundamentally different from what was heard on the Doris sessions. I hear this set as very much an extension of that one, almost as though it could have been recorded the next day, like a conversation picked up after an unfortunately long interlude, returning to the thread but with implicit knowledge of what's intervened. Tilbury is as solid and extraordinary as ever--arguably more so later in the set; he play figures both recognizable and knew and I admit to no small amount of joy when hearing some of the more familiar emanations, like that four-note climbing arpeggio that appears at about the half-hour mark, like an old friend rounding the corner.

We're very fortunate to have this music.

Potlatch

available in the US from Erstdist

Wade Matthews/Afredo Costa Monteiro - Winter (Copy for Your Records)

A strong recording from Matthews (digital synthesis, manipulated field recordings) and Costa Monteiro (amplified springs, electric motors, radio). I'm increasingly at a loss how to describe work like this insofar as differentiating it from that of others. This isn't a criticism--far from it, the music here is excellent--just to say that it inhabits a zone--grainy, amorphous but with organic shape, rich in depth--that's not so uncommon. Again, that's fine by me. I've enjoyed Costa Monteiro's work for quite some time and find he rarely disappoints. I'm far less familiar with Matthews, having heard perhaps four or five examples, liking some, not caring for others. But this is a really nice pairing, consistently (at least) interesting, sometimes elevating matters further. They handle density and sparseness equally well and their palette, which I hear in tones of rough gray and brown, is prickly and engaging. Love to hear them in concert...In the meantime, check this one out.


Miguel A. Garcia/Richard Kamerman - Homophest (Copy for Your Records)

A half-hour live set from late September of last year, possibly a bit less aggressive and itchy than you might guess, building its own kind of flow, with tinkling and scratches and hums, cresting a couple of times, resettling. A satisfying set, one that would have been enjoyable to witness, not too far in character from some of the shows Kamerman and cohorts put on during the. AMPLIFY:stones earlier that month.


KEROAÄN - Daunting In Its Variousness: First In A Suite Of An Indeterminate Number Of Pieces (Copy for Your Records)

Software designed by Ian M, Fraser and Reed Evan Rosenberg. Funny, before I visited Ian's page, I remarked to myself on the Xenakis-ness of the title...otherwise, difficult to know what to say and, in fact, probably unfair given that it's the audio for a video installation where the light effects influence the audio (I think). One can get an idea from this vid:

KEROAÄN - LIVE DIFFUSION from spacecoffin on Vimeo.

Clearly, something you'd really have to experience in situ. As is, the audio dis feels a bit insubstantial though I think, as the structure is stochastic based, it may also simply be tough to grasp (at least for me) all at once. I have similar problems with some of Xenakis' music at the beginning, though over time things settle in. In any case, would love to see/hear the work sometime as I find something pretty exciting about it.

Copy for Your Records

(photo: Yuko Zama)

OK, though I think this gets sillier and sillier over time, here's a listing of the recordings that I've enjoyed most over the past year. I'm fudging more than usual this year in that there are six, count 'em, six releases among which choosing a favorite seems especially ridiculous; any one could occupy the top spot on a given day. I will say that, in terms of momentousness, Φ, by virtue of its bringing together, with such delicious tension, the two main "schools" of interest to me in contemporary music, might have the conceptual edge. In any case, alpha:

1. Jurg Frey - metal, stone, skin, foliage, air (Nick Hennies) (l'Innomable)
1. Radu Malfatti/Keith Rowe - Φ (Erstwhile)
1. Michael Pisaro - asleep, street, pipes tones (Gravity Wave)
1. Michael Pisaro - fields have ears (Another Timbre)
1. Michael Pisaro - close constellations and drum on the ground (Gravity Wave)
1. Keith Rowe/John Tilbury - E.E. Tension and Circumstance (Potlatch)

Five more to make a Top 11:

7. Keith Rowe - Concentration of the Stare (bottrop boy)
8. Lucio Capece/Radu Malfatti - Explorational (b-boim)
9. Cornelius Cardew - Works 1960 - 1970 (+3db)
10. Toshimaru Nakamura - Maruto (Erstwhile)
11. Michael Pisaro - Hearing Metal 2 (Gravity Wave)


(photo: fabonthemoon)

Ten more superb albums that should be on everyone's list:

Antoine Beuger- un lieu pour etre deux (Copy for Your Records)
John Cage - Four4 (Another Timbre)
Luc Ferrari/Rinus van Alebeek - Cycles des Souvenirs (Mathka)
Hong Chulki/Jin Sangtae/Kevin Parks - 音影 (Celadon)
MIMEO - Wigry (Bolt/Monotone)
Joe Panzner - Clearing, Polluted (Copy for Your Records)
Robert Schumann - Dichteliebe (Bolt)
Mites - something but it's not tomorrow (CDR)
Seijiro Murayama/Stephane Rives - Axiom for the Duration (Potlatch)
Haptic - Scilens (Entr'acte)

(pausing to mention four historical items that are incredible:)

Eliane Radigue - Transamorem-Transmortem (Important)
Various - I listen to the Wind that Obliterates My Traces (Dust to Digital)
Derek Bailey - Concert in Milwaukee (Incus)
John Cage _ Ryoanji (hat ART)

So much good music, I feel compelled to also list these other releases, all excellent, all more than worthy of your time:

Greg Kelley/Olivia Block - Resolution (Erstwhile)
Craig Shepard - On Foot (Wandelweiser)
Taku Unami/Takahiro Kawaguchi - Teatro Assente (Erstwhile)
Dominic Lash/Patrick Farmer/Sarah Hughes - Droplets (Another Timbre)
Richard Garet/Asher Thal-Nir - Melting Ground (contour editions)
Anne Guthrie/Barry Chabala - Preston Hollow (Roeba)
Hankil Ryu /Hong Chulki/Choi Joonyong - Inferior Music (Balloon & Needle)
Giuseppe Ielasi(Bellows) - Handcut (Senufo)
Graham Lambkin - Amateur Doubles (Kye)
Michael Pisaro - Hearing Metal 3 (Gravity Wave)
Nikos Veliotis/Klaus Filip -Slugabed (Hibari)
John Wall/Alex Rodgers, Alex - Work 2006-2011 (entr'acte)
John Cage - The Works for Percussion (Mode)
Richard Kamerman - changes.txt (Engraved Glass)
Patrick Farmer - Like falling out of trees… (Consumer Waste)
Anne Guthrie - Perhaps a favorable organic moment (Copy for Your Records)
Ben Owen - 05012009FP (winds measure)
John Cage/Morton Feldman - In a Silent Way (Stradivarius)
Manfred Werder - 2009 (5) (Cathnor)
Mites - something to ponder upon (Mystery Sea)
Graham Stephenson - Defiantly Not (Pilgrim Talk)
Jeph Jerman - Arrantre (CD) (no label)
Eric Cordier/Seijiro Murayama - Nuit (Herbal International)
Jason Kahn - Dotolim (Balloon & Needle)
Ben Owen -Birds and Water, 1 (Notice Recordings)
Gill Arno - Lacunae (winds measure)
Jamie Drouin/Lance Olsen - Absence + Forgiveness (Infrequency)
Christian Wolff - Kompositionen 1950-1972 (Edition RZ)
Boris Hauf/Stephen Hess/Keefe Jackson/Juun - Prismatics (Creative Sources)

As always, much thanks to those of you who send these beautiful things my way.

Antoine Beuger - un lieu pour être deux (Copy for Your Records)

As performed by Barry Chabala (guitar) and Ben Owen (synthesized tones, field recordings)...and gorgeously so. I haven't seen the score and I must say, a part of me would rather not, preferring to wallow in it and contemplate why on earth this gossamer construction seems to hold together so well, what the structure could possibly be that makes it seem as solid as any more densely populated piece of (fine) music. The field recordings are a constant, though at a fairly low volume level--urban, with car sounds and kids playing, but often at a distance as though heard from a high story of a building (other times voices in a large enclosed space). Chabala's guitar and, I suppose, Owen's tones appear at intervals, relatively strong, sometimes surprisingly so, though never (of course!) strident and varying in their attack. Here, it seems to strive to blend into the city sounds, there it stands apart. A place to be two. I read it as a weaving in and out, the street sounds always there, if only hovering faintly, the guitar passing now and then. Yet there's a tensile feel to it as though there's a grid underpinning everything, but difficult to perceive.

Wonderful, in any case, easily listenable again and again, totally natural, highly recommended.

Copy for Your Records


Lucio Capece/Radu Malfatti - Explorational (b-boim)

I think my natural tendency, perhaps not uncommon, when approaching a new release involving Malfatti, is to think compositionally, in Wandelweiser terms. Obviously a wrong tack in an improv session like this one. But listening to it as such is tough in one sense, though immensely rewarding--it does indeed challenge one's notions of free improvisation. There have been many comments, of course, about it's severely quiet nature and yes, it's a recording that begs to be heard in a pristine environment. The heating unit for our apartment is outside my room and, it being winter, when it activates, there's no way I hear the music. My window fronts on the street which, though reasonably quiet, is populated by vehicles whose engine hum is uncannily close to the pitch of the bass clarinet and trombone being ever so subtly wielded here. So one does the best one can and...it's enough.

It's an extraordinary performance in ways I imagine I'll still be delving into years from now, two sets of faint, hazy (though precisely limned) lines in space that occasionally intersect, balanced beautifully. More than most, one would wish to have been there and, happily, there's a video available of the first 23 (out of 40) minutes of the set:



Going on about the control, sound placement, quietude, etc. seems silly. It's an improv, that's what I love about it. I love that Radu waits about 6 1/2 minutes before making his first sound. I love the sound of the paired horns when they coincide but also love that this happens only rarely.

Wonderful, wonderful music and ideas.

b-boim

both available from erstdist

mpld - one more episode in between recollection and amnesia (unframed)

Six pieces from 2006 re-released (as also the one below) from an original edition of 10 via mpld (Gill Arno), most involving prepared slide projectors. After a brief, evocative inside-piano track, the projectors take over, casting an eerie kind of spell, somehow allowing for sound types that, in this world where you think you've heard everything, strike me as unusual. There's a range, to be sure, sometimes enhanced electronically (though perhaps always), tending toward a kind of rubbed hard rubber area amidst the metallic taps, maybe rubber-coated metal, the shell providing resonance, being ground against one another with serious pressure. Sometimes the projector as such exposes itself in fluttery, humming fashion--quite lovely and forceful. The 20 minute "four flashbacks" is especially evocative, helicoptering through the mist and smoke and dust. Very nice. A closing field recording merges seamlessly with the piece, drifting off. Beautiful cover image as well, culled from his live projector set-up.


Gill Arno - Nervatura (unframed)

For "Nervatura", Arno, on a visit to Chicago, drew on a map, following railway lines and traveled that route, recording along the way as well as picking up scraps of metal which he later heated and then placed on thermal-sensitive paper, one of the lovely results becoming the fold-out sleeve for this disc. Three pieces, each designated by map coordinates, which gain in strength over the course of the recording. Om the first, railway sounds predominate with trans on track and station bells, children's chatter mixed in. The second dwells in crowd noise, nicely immersive. It's the in the third that things really gel, become rather epic. Hollow sounds, water again, engines...a boat engine, I think. But then a hum enters the picture and just transforms things, elevates them. Not sure of the source, though they're reminiscent of ringing metal wires but whatever their origin, they perfectly glue together the engine thrums and distant metallic clanks. And at 19 minutes, it lasts precisely the right length.

Fine effort.

unframed

Michel Doneda/Jonas Kocher/Tao G. Urhovec Sambolec/Tomaž Grom/Giuseppe Ielasi - Udarnik (l'Innomable)

Four pieces by the first four names above and a fifth constructed from that material by Ielasi. An oddly structured recording, at least to my ears. The live quartet dates (soprano, accordion, computer, contrabass) are ok but rather routine, the kind of breathy/scratchy/rubbing improv that one expects from Doneda and with which his companions seem comfortable. For myself, there was nothing particularly special about it. But Ielasi's recombination of the material (not certain if he confined himself to the substance of these tracks or had other options) is superb, a fantastic dense, rolling nine-minute piece that has all the vigor and robustness lacking in the originals. As I said, an odd choice to stand this work on its own when it clearly outshadows its forebears. Worth it for the Ielasi alone.


Ferran Fages - Llavi vell (l'innomable)

You're never sure quite what to expect with Fages though most recently (of what I've heard), he's gone bk and forth between noisy improv and calmer, lovely acoustic work. This one's different. Essentially a long, continuous,fairly complex drone derived, one suspects, from a contact-mic'd guitar, possibly augmented by simultaneous transmission via speakers into the room. The overall effect is one of a ringing, dulcimer-like quality. It's attractive enough but, somehow, I didn't find over the course of its 44 minutes enough to sustain my interest. I suspect this is partly due to the simple fact of its being a recording, that were I to experience it as a sound installation, to be immersed in it, things might be different. As is, it's not unpleasing but ultimately unsatisfying.


Leo Alves Vieira & Pangea - Post-Sleep Paths (Marmorno)

Vierea on Bb Clarinet, flute, acoustic guitar and electro-acoustics, Pangea (Juan Antonio Nieto) on sound treatments, with additional string work. The five pieces take existing sound, often music (is that Don Cherry on track 3?) or spoken word, and alter them in a manner reminiscent of concrete and tape assemblage work from the 60s, albeit with a greater amount of ancillary sound and a subtler approach. There is indeed a sense of dream-logic in play, a misty surreality about the music. This is most finely wrought on the aforementioned third track where that sped-up trumpet flits in and out of guitar chords, masses of static and dynamic displacement; a dizzying and very enjoyable journey. I found the dis as a whole a bit inconsistent but when it gels, things are quite fascinating. Worth checking out.

Marmorno

Luscinia

Graham Lambkin - Amateur Doubles (Kye)

I first encountered Lambkin's work, as did many, I imagine, with the brilliant "Salmon Run" several years back, never having experienced his tenure with Shadow Ring. Subsequent efforts with Jason Lescalleet, on his own and in the three or four times I've had the pleasure of experiencing his live performance, he's pretty well cemented, in my head, himself as one of the more unique musicians around. And, of course, the term "musician" is highly suspect as Lambkin certainly pushes the boundaries of what one considers musicianship. Live, it's sometimes difficult to discern exactly what it is he's contributing while on record, his use of previously existing music, often to brilliant effect, raises questions of authorship that can be prickly. I suppose that's never been more so the case than with "Amateur Doubles". Which I love.

One opens the gatefold LP sleeve to a photo of the Lambkin family seen through the window of their car, apparently a Honda Civic. Graham is fiddling with something beneath he dashboard, his wife Adris Hoyos behind the wheel, a son in the back seat. This was the recording studio. Atop the dashboard are the two CDs that make up much of the sound source for the disc: "Pôle" by Philippe Besombes and Jean-Louis Rizet and "300 Miles Away" by Philippe Grancher, both Tangerine Dream-y, fusion-y 70s discs with mucho synth/electric piano action. What seems to have occurred is that Lambkin extracted some quite evocative and lovely nuggets from what I'm given to understand are otherwise unexceptional recordings and constructed a melange of sorts (on tape? you hear what sounds like cassette insertion at several points)) which he proceeded to play and record inside the car.

It sounds almost hilarious in one sense but, dammit, it works beautifully. The recordings dominate the soundscape (bracketed by a few moments of something else, including some flute practice at the beginning of Side One--though maybe that's also part of the source recording?) though they're clearly embedded within this somewhat claustrophobic environment, this small "room". Apart from the general ambiance of the space, you hear other elements including the chatter of children, presumably Graham's and Adris', some amount of exterior sound (though I daresay the windows were closed during this operation), various clicks and tappings and what sounds to me like Lambkin's low, muttering voice.

And it somehow all works, works pretty wonderfully. As with field recordings, I have to think it all revolves around choices made and how those choices synch up to the listener's taste, sense of structure, etc. Lambkin manages to rescue these pieces, on their own perhaps a bit sappy, by fixing them in this very real setting, by imbuing them with enough grain and grit so as to make them palatable, no mean feat. I can put this on and listen all day, dwelling on the multiple possible meaning of the term, "amateur doubles".

Incidentally, I'm not sure if this isn't a feature common to all clear vinyl, but there's a very cool optical occurrence one encounters when looking down at the spinning disc, the grooves appearing to go both "forwards" and "backwards" on the turntable. Trippy!

Highly recommended...

Available via erstdist

Patrick Farmer - Like falling out of trees into collectors' albums (Consumer Waste)

The title poses a kind of question, or observation, that I imagine often crosses the mind of those who deal in field recordings: to what extent they're "merely" the recipients of sounds that happen to fall their way. How much of themselves ends up in the recording? Does it matter? Farmer perhaps touches on this in a short essay included here when he writes "that there is everything and nothing to record, to notice, to document".

As ever, with releases as (apparently) "pure" in their substance as this one, that is, bearing little seeming enhancement on the part of, in this case, Farmer, qualitative judgment is something of a fool's errand except insofar as to simply state whether or not the sounds moved me, placed me in a different psychological space, or not. Well, these do. Three recordings: a pond's slowly melting surface--soft water sounds augmented by the occasional airplane; aower lines recorded via mic placement on a wire fence--a beautiful, oddly hollow but complex sound in which you can imagine infinite levels of detail just outside the range of your hearing; a wasp paring away layer of a bamboo cane, the subtlest of the trio and, on disc, almost as fascinating as it might have been to be inside that tube, which is to say, very.

An excellent recording, highly recommended for those with any interest at all in this area.



Jack Harris/Samuel Rodgers - What's that for, mate? (Consumer Waste)

Fine laptop/electronics session, two longish works, each traversing substantial territory in a calm and inquisitive manner. Generally quiet but with a few laser blasts and, better, some unexpected encounters in the form of voices and brief rhythmic patterns. There's an impressive intensity to the calmness, a highly tuned consideration of sounds and sequencing, and a good balance of the gentle and the severe. This grew on me each successive time I listened, a very enjoyable amble indeed.


Ben Gwilliam/Hainer Woermann - cardtape drafts (Consumer Waste)

I believe (I'll doubtless be proved wrong) that this is my first exposure to Gwilliam (tape, magnetics, amplified processes) and Woermann (amplified cardboard, preparations), hopefully not the last.

Yes, amplified cardboard. Excellent.

Four tracks, unhurried but not unbusy, carrying a strong sense of the space in which they were constructed, scurryings, tappings and rubbings buffeting against one another, almost as though blown into contact by a strong breeze. Great balance between liquid sounds and dry ones, the latter most often brought to us via the cardboard, if I'm not mistaken. Not that I expect to see such in everyone's arsenal soon, but Woermann wields it quite ably here. Dynamics are worked wonderfully, elements expand out of the room, into the open, still abristle, ebb to a rumble, wax again toward the end, everything buzzing.

Strong recording; need to hear more from them...

consumer waste

Hong Chulki/Jin Sangtae/Kevin Parks - 音影 (Celadon)

Perhaps the translation as "chiaroscuro" is the most fitting; one of the immediately apparent aspects of this very fine recording, for those who have experienced the music of the Seoul-based musicians only on disc, is the transitioning between the harsh, more abrupt sound-word they've tended to inhabit and a smoother one, one in which long, semi-pure tones are not uncommon. It's a fantastic mix. I'm guessing the latter is largely the result of Parks' presence here; not that his own out put has been so streamlined, but that the longer tones seem more often than not to be introduced and elaborated on by the guitar, picked up by others in the ensuing minutes.

That's the impression which permeates the disc: a delicate, lovely balance between the rough and tumble of Hong Chulki's turntables (which, surprisingly in this day and age, are occasionally the brief source of some identifiable music) and Jin Sangtae's hard drives and Parks' guitar and electronics, the former seeming to adapt themselves a tad or two to the relatively clearer tones and hums of the latter. It's bby no means a complete accession and that's much of the beauty, that tension and elasticity that forms in between. As implied above, it's entirely possible that this particular area is more routinely heard at performances in Seoul than have been documented on disc (at least within my hearing), but to this listener, the music comes as a refreshing variation to what's appeared before on Manual, Balloon and Needle, etc. Parks' oyster shells to Hong's and Jin's cigarette butts? The fifth of five tracks achieves a special kind of synthesis, really beautiful.

It's quite active overall but feels entirely unforced, a very natural flow in effect, the bleats and screeches blending wonderfully with the more mellifluous tones. I don't want to suggest it's all that smooth, btw, just a more finely grained sandpaper than one might expect. Not sure what else to say except that if you enjoyed the Parks/Foster "Acts Have Consequences" release (and, really, who didn't), you love this one. Highly recommended.

Celadon


Hong Chulki/Ryu Hankil/Choi Joonyong - Inferior Sounds (Balloon and Needle)

Album title of the year? Though closer in character to previous work out of Seoul, this too strikes me as having moved toward a fuller, somehow more accommodating sound. There's a kind of surge in effect throughout much of the disc's two almost half-hour tracks; one pictures a large mass of all these thorny, harsh elements "balled up" into a larger form that steadily oozes along. As in the Celadon release, the aural landscape is active, silences rare to non-existent. It's more than harsh enough for your average passer-by but less so than I might have expected, given past music.

So in many ways, including the coincidence of their fairly close release dates, I think of these as a kind of diptych. And it's just as hard to parse on some ways. Knowing the instruments involved are typewriters, turntables, CD-players and a snare drum gives one an idea and if you know earlier work from these musicians, you'll have an inkling, but there's less overt aggression than encountered in the past. I'm of course reluctant to conclude anything of a general nature from only two examples but I'm naturally curious to find out if this represents anything of a recent tendency there. Whatever the case, this adjustment, if it is such, suits really well with me, nudging the music just a hair toward a more user-friendly sound. It will still easily drive any adjacent acquaintance from the room, don't misunderstand, but the music feels more solid and focused than ever. Excellent work. (and a wonderful packaging idea)

Balloon & Needle

Both available stateside via Erstdist

Ben Owen - Birds and Water, 1 (Notice Recordings)

I wish I could figure out exactly what it is that I routinely enjoy about Ben Owen's work that differentiates it from others plowing roughly the same territory. As before, the best I can do is posit that it revolves around choices made and that those choices, in one sense or another, coincide with my taste, with what I would do or, more likely, what I wouldn't do but would look back and think I should have done. This cassette release (which I heard on disc) contains two substantial sides, over 47 minutes each, both realized at the Experimental Television Center in Owega, NY in 2010, using A system developed by David Jones (presumably not our David Jones) in 1974 that includes sequencers, oscillators and image processors. Side A shifts from area to area, some intense and full, some all but silent, the latter often redolent, on closer examination, with hums and wooly static, here smooth, there very, very rough. What to say except that both the selection of sounds as well as their duration/sequencing sit perfectly, keeping one rapt and delighted.

Side B is a bit of a tougher go only because it's essentially a single drone, kind of a thicker variant of a Sachiko M piece. There are striations, though, and they're apparent on reasonably close listen even before the ocarina-like, wavering tones appear. The long hum. I haven't had the opportunity to really lay this out loud, though I imagine it would sound great. I enjoy it as is even if I somehow find it missing that extraordinary level of attention that Sachiko manifest. Still and all, very fine.

A strong, absorbing recording, well worth seeking out.

notice recordings

Steve Beresford/Stephen Flinn/Dave Tucker - Ink Room (Creative Sources)

Nice title. Electronics/percussion/guitar. I haven't kept track of Beresford at all over the years, though I recall enjoying his more straightforward efforts (Signals for Tea, the film disc on Tzadik) more than his free work and this, more or less and example of the latter, confirms my prejudices. It's less Beresford that's the problem than Tucker, whose rock-referential, harsher-than Frisell (which is to say, not very), gentler than Bailey approach wears thin quickly. Combined, the trio churns out something resembling a random, less than inspired set of music that wouldn't have been out of place in downtown NYC circa 1990. Retro-efi? Not for me.


Heddy Boubaker/Ernesto Rodrigues/Abdul Moimeme - Le Beau Deviant (Creative Sources)

Now this is more like it. Six pretty incisive, thoughtfully considered improvs from Boubaker (alto and bass saxes), Rodrigues (viola) and Moimeme (prepared electric guitar). Not earthsaking but solid. Most things I've heard involving Boubaker over the past several years have shown well-learned lessons from AMM without descending into slavish imitation and this is another. The pieces are quiet and spacious, relaxed but concise. Boubaker manages to avoid both saxophonics and post-Butcher tropes, really just disappearing into the mix, no mean feat. All contribute at moments and with sounds that tend to feel exactly right at that time. Just a good, strong session, very enjoyable.


Erik Carlsson - The Bird and the Giant (Creative Sources)

Solo percussion and not bad at all. He sticks mostly to metals and bells, sometimes sounding a bit like certain prepared piano set-ups, keeps things calm but percolating, well-paced and, by virtue of the elements employed, very soothing on the ear. As with the trio release above, I can't say there's anything startling or "new", but no matter. It's an exceedingly pleasant recording, absolutely fine for creating a bubbly, meditational atmosphere. Also appreciate the more sandpapery final two tracks, nicely offsetting the prior sounds. Good work.


Marjolane Charbin/Frans van Isacker - Kryscraft (Creative Sources)

Piano and alto saxophone; don't believe I've heard either musician before. This is one of those recordings where I can't say there's anything particularly wrong but it doesn't quite grab me. Fairly quiet (aide from an annoying sax explosion toward the end), making use of plenty of extended technique, inside-piano, etc. Perfectly competent and sometimes charming, though more so the "straighter" it gets (an all-too common phenomenon in my experience; I can't begin to count the number of musicians I think would be better served to be less "avant"). Were I attending a live event and this was presented, I'd be satisfied but I'm afraid I'd forget it within hours. It's fine, just more or less indistinguishable from many.


Boris Hauf/Steven Hess/Keefe Jackson/Juun - Proxemics (Creative Sources)

The pick of this particular litter, to these ears. I hadn't heard Hauf in quite some time, though I have fond memories of the discs he used to send out, willy-nilly, about ten years ago. He's added sines and harmonium to his tenor and soprano, teaming hear with Hess (drums, electronics), Jackson (contrabass clarinet, tenor) and Juun (piano) for three lush, deep probes. Interesting how well the two reeds work in this context. While they make free use of what has come to be heard as "traditional" breath tones, they freely drift into standard sounds and even, as heard some 15 minutes into the opening track, a kind of mournful melodic line that wouldn't have been so out of place in the Garbarek of "Afric Pepperbird" (1970). And it works. The shortish second cut is even, to my ears, more directly referential to that once-fine Norwegian, sounding like it could have been an outtake from "Tryptikon"--very tasty, too, I have to say. Surprising they could still manage to make something viable from this material, at this date, though it's Juun's prepared piano, an element not heard in those early ECM days, that proves to be the winning ingredient. The harmonium appears on the final piece, a soft, semi-droning work that shifts every few minutes, from low throbs to hollow winds back to harmonium drones with semi-rhythmic, light percussion. The horns return, undisguised and again, manage not only not to irritate but to gibe before the wheezy drone returns to take things out. Excellent recording.


David Chiesa/Jean Sebastien Mariage - Oort (Creative Sources)

Double bass and electric guitar, doing a reasonable rendition of the cloud of debris between Mars and Jupiter. Spacious, and scrape-filled (much arco bass and, I suspect, bowed guitar)--I would have thought I'd like it more than I do. Something is lacking for this listener, however and I'm guessing that, however extenuated the sounds, they seem to relate back to the kind of post-serial gesturalism that often makes me itch. Less a concern with pure sound than with flourishes of extended technique, that is. Not bad but not enough air for me.


Abdul Moimeme/Ricardo Guerreiro - Knettanu (Creative Sources)

For two simultaneously played, prepared electric guitars and "interactive computing platform". Not sure what the latter does, though I assume it's something along the lines of regurgitating Moimeme's guitar as the music carries that tonality pretty much throughout. It's echoey, spacey; reminds me somewhat of Laswell's 90s explorations which....isn't a great thing to remind me of. Much resonant scraping, ringing tones, darkness. Better than that, with some welcome harshness tossed in here and there but overall, far too meandering and, well, spacey, for my taste.

[Writer's note: Last week my pc was the recipient of some malware, so I'd been working on Linda's laptop, where I did the above. When my pc was apparently fixed, I used it to write the remaining four reviews of the Creative Sources discs. Unfortunately, fixed it wasn't and none of them were saved. I just don't have the heart or time to rewrite them and, since I didn't happen to find those four discs very much to my liking, I'll let them drop. Apologies, Ernesto. The four were:

Matthias Muche/Philip Zoubek/Achim Tang - excerpts from anything
Alon Nechushtan - Dark Forces
Olaf Rapp/Joe Williamson/Tony Buck - Weird Weapons
Joe Williamson - Hoard ]

Creative Sources

Haptic - Scilens (Entr'acte/Flingco)

The band that refuses to disappoint.

As ever, tough to encapsulate short of mere descriptives. They're careful and quiet, yes, with something of a dronish character lurking about, though not so insistent as to make it a very conscious apprehension. It more involves the materials they choose to use in constructing these hums, rubbings, vibrations and how (for example, in the luscious opening track) they deposit small helpings of beautiful, clear piano, augmented by rougher, less clear string abrasion. On first blush, you (I) don't realize how much variation there is--a sign of great work: apparent simplicity made up of enormous complexity.

The fifth track gets rudely percussive for a bit, surging then receding then coming back again, before settling down. But it's a fine jostle amidst the general, wonderful haze. A "hidden" sixth cut zones out spectacularly, just a languorous throb amidst crickets and ice crystals.

Hear this.

Pali Meursault - Without the wolves (Entr'acte)

A really fascinating recording with an interesting arc. At the beginning of the first track, we hear a soft but quite detailed range of dripping sounds, reasonably dense but clear, augmented by similarly pitched glitches and cracks, with the odd metallic bang. It's very much of a piece and, in its fashion, rather steady state. I liked it very much and admired Mearsault's sticking to it for quite some time, allowing variations to creep in that didn't disturb the flow but rather focused the listener's attention here and there within the stream. Some 15 minutes in, however, it began to pall a bit. Something, something hard to pinpoint, was no longer clicking. A certain range of drops vanished, perhaps that was it, and I found it disquieting.

But this shift, relatively abrupt though it was, began to open up adjacent areas that, while quite different and becoming more so as the piece wore on, seemed somehow appropriate when the opening was reconsidered in hindsight. Bits of radio, whirring buzzes and all manner of detritus appear, eventually evanescing into the dark. Nice.

Second and third tracks have more of a field recording feel, from breathing and talking around a fire (?) with what sounds like a good bit of trudging around, to wind-whipped howls and dog yips, all, eventually fanning out into an ethereal ringing, quite beautiful.

I got pretty lost in this and enjoyed it a bunch.

Nick Storring - Rife (Entr'acte)

Storring is a Toronto-based cellist and electronicist and I think this is my first encounter with his music. It's a reasonably juicy one. The music also diverges from what might expect after the first few moments, when I was guessing at a post-modern cello set augmented by electronics, but occupying a fairly abstract area. Not so. Quite quickly, the kitchen sink is duly thrown in and the subsequent music incorporates eastern tropes, zither, lush electronica, beats and much else. If I had to make a single comparison, it would be to Fennesz, whose influence looms large, especially insofar as general tone, but Storring, in these ten tracks (which I read as a suite) is even less constrained, seemingly willing to drift wherever the "moment" takes him. This has its pluses and minuses. I find myself enjoying it in large part even as I question how much depth is there. It's sonic candy to an extent, tasty and easily digested if, perhaps, lacking in required vitamin department.

Still, well worth a listen and one of those discs that could provide a gentle avenue into deeper realms for innocent ears.

Entr'acte

Flingco

Just a note on this marvelous release, otherwise unrelated to the usual stuff here.

Steve Roden, who, I guess, is actually a bit related to the aforementioned usual stuff, apparently spends a good deal of his spare time trawling thrift shops in search of, among other things, ancient, obscure vinyl and old photographs. He's collected two CDs worth of the former and a bookload of the latter, all consisting of music-related subject matter, in this fantastic volume.

The music dates from the '20s to '40s, the photos from the mid 1800's through maybe the 30s (? not sure, don't have it at hand). There are blues, hymns, folk songs, pop tunes, most of them by people you've never heard of, many of them just gorgeous. Highlights include Nick Lucas (a central inspiration for Tiny Tim! and who appeared on the Tonight Show wedding of same) crooning, "If you Hadn't Gone Away", Eva Parker's stirring rendition of "I Seen My Pretty Papa Standing on a Hill" ("He looked just like a ten-thousand dollar bill") and an awesome jew's harp performance of "The Old Grey Horse" by Obed Pickard.

I've posted a couple of selections on facebook to deafening silence from the eai community (:-)) but what the hell...it's great music.

Oh, and their Fahey set contains its share of gems as well.

Dust to Digital

Greg Kelley/Olivia Block - Resolution (Erstwhile)


Jérôme Noetinger/Will Guthrie - Face Off (Erstwhile)

The two new Erstwhile releases stand in something of a contrast to recent albums on the label, being (to my ears), less strictly idea-oriented and more concerned with pure sonic attributes. In some ways, I here them as similar to recordings like "eh" and "Lidingo", which is all well and good.

Olivia Block makes her label debut, paired with Greg Kelley in his first appearance on Erstwhile since "Forlorn Green", although the overall cast of the session seems more firmly located in her neck of the woods, which is to say very thick and richly layered, possessing a massiveness and spatial volume. She plays a bit of piano here and there (once unfurling a couple of strikingly Tilbury-esque arpeggios, elsewhere within the piano's string-bed) but it's her electronics that predominate, finely integrated with Kelley's trumpet, enough so that it's often difficult to pick out the horn from the diverse soundscape.

Though the five pieces have enormous dynamic range, there's never a sense of sparseness; even at its quietest, you get the impression that even the gossamer strands that are barely discernible are tightly connected and possess great tensile strength. And when things get churning--or tumbling--look out. The sheer sound is marvelous through most of the set, especially those moments, beloved of Block, wherein one experiences loud but slightly dulled bangs, like crates being jostled in the hold of a cavernous ship, similar to the ambiance of her "Heave To" but here augmented by Kelley's ferocious rushes of wind power and tin plate-induced buzz. The fourth cut, "some old slapstick routine" is almost bravura in its deployment of crashes, wheezes, bangs and piano, a marvelous explosion of densities, colors and plasticity.

It's interesting re: the title, "Resolution" that had we read this in 1970, wed likely think of "moral determination" whereas today, I daresay, we think in terms of sensual acuity. In any case, I hear this as quite a sensual release, and a very good one.

There's a somewhat similar feel, at least to these ears, with the Noetinger/Guthrie recording, not in actual sound but in the sense of being immersed in a purely sensual world, here defined by electronics and percussion. It's a more prickly clime, more spittle and nails, but contains the same kind of richness and viscosity.

Twelve cuts that, though often differentiated by a brief gap, read decently enough as a continuous suite. There are different tensions in play here: a bit of a musique concrète resonance via Noetinger and the slightest of free jazz allusions on the part of Guthrie, who's been investigating that territory in recent years.

Difficult to know what to say apart from simple descriptives; for all its grit, there's a certain airiness at hand, the whirs of the tape decks seeming at some physical distance from Guthrie's clatter. Perhaps that's one aspect, that there's a strong feeling of twoness here whereas "Resolution" has a kind of unity that, had I not known otherwise, might have made it difficult to ascertain the number of people involved. "Face Off" (and perhaps this is apropos given the filmic reference of the title) strikes me as more of a dialogue, even (heaven forfend!) a conversation. Whatever, it maintains interest absolutely throughout. Listeners aware of the prior work of both will have a reasonable idea of what to expect, though it's less monolithic that some of Guthrie's electronic work from recent years.

One tends to consider new Erstwhiles in the context of its impressive catalog. While these may not have the conceptual depth of Rowe/Malfatti (not that much does, imho) or the sheer, aggressive innovation of a Taku Unami project, they're each entirely winning baths of sound from two pairs of fine and fascinating musicians. Recommended.

Erstwhile

Two LPs by Mattin that were apparently released in early 2010 but showed up on my doorstep only recently. The first deals, more or less traditionally, with music, the second not so much. Mattin will be appearing (what that entails, who knows? or even if he'll appear) along with Jarred Fowler and Rind on Tuesday, 11/22 at 208 Bowery, 2nd Floor at 8PM.


Loy Fankbonner/Margarida Garcia/Kevin Failure/Mattin - Exquisite Corpse (w.m.o/r - Azul Discografica - Ozono Kids)

The idea is simple enough: four parts of each of ten songs recorded independently, with only the lyrics serving as "graphic score" of a kind, limiting the length to standard pop's three minutes, layering the results without discrimination. MIMEO's "Sight" was a far deeper exploration along tangential lines, including as it did the advice to think in terms of the communality of the ensemble despite being geographically isolated. Perhaps the same idea was at play here or the members thought of it themselves. I also found myself recalling Gavin Bryars' wonderful "1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4" on that mid-70s Obscure disc, wherein the group member recorded simultaneously but outside the range of hearing each other, beginning a written piece together (in this case a loungy jazz number) but gradually, inevitably, drifting apart.

In any event, we *are* presented with a commodity here, another in a long string of seemingly contradictory product emanating from Mattin who might just as likely sit and stare at his performing partner for the duration of the set, recording what transpires, playing it back immediately, or not show up, or interrogate the audience. Not sure if this is the "last" item which presents a fairly traditional musical approach (in ultimate outcome, if not in means of production). If I attempt to describe what it sounds like...oh, a bit of Boredoms, maybe some DNA, any number of groups straddling the noise/rock divide. At times, rather amusingly, it brings back memories of Last Exit or Arcana. It's perfectly listenable, very loose, Failure's guitar chiming, Fankbonner's drums supple and varied and, probably (not surprisingly) Garcia's bass, rough-hewn and uncompromising, supplying the most material of lasting interest. Mattin's vocals are suitably disjointed and glossolaliac.

Listen here (w.m.o/r)


Mattin - Object of Thought (Presto!?)

When I opened the package in which these LPs arrived, the knife I used left an incision directly across the black circle that occupies most of the back cover of this release. Seemed appropriate, somehow.

I find this one a good bit more interesting, ultimately, than the Exquisite Corpse album, largely due to its fine juxtaposition of the abstract and concrete, the latter consisting of the spoken words of Mattin, recording his thoughts on (I take it) a range of subjects, which he then distorts, cuts and otherwise manhandles, removing any real vestige of meaning with the exception, possibly, of tone of voice. In this sense, one recalls Lucier's "I Am Sitting in a Room", though the end result falls in territory adjacent to Ashley's "Automatic Writing". Not to make a qualitative comparison, just an elemental one.

Side A is quiet, Side B, less so. Sometimes the words are intelligible, more often not, slowed to an indistinct mumble. Electronics interfere like a mal-tuned analog radio. Sonically, it works quite well, balanced, slithery, interruptive. That's part of the irony, I suppose, that one is unable *not* to listen (at least, that's the case with me) without making assessments that are more aesthetic than political. One can expand upon the attempted portrayal (and understanding) of ideas made impossible by the corporate chaos around us, though that's not a particularly deep thought, both obvious and subvertable. So one listens to it as sound, contravening what I imagine Mattin's preference would be. And it works quite well, though my favorite aspect might still be the knife cut I made in the sleeve.

presto!?

Sean Baxter - Solo Drumkit Improvisations (Bocian)

Bocian had preciously released a couple of Baxter solos on 45rpm vinyl; sometimes I thought it worked well in that format at that length, other times I wanted to hear the music more expanded. Well, got my wish on the latter here, with a 35-minute LP, eight tracks of varied percussion. It's all quite full and active on Side One, but at the same time, there's not much of a sense of fussiness or bravura playing. Things grow quiet on the flip side, much crinkling of material at first, then a flurry of toms and light metallic clatter. Echoes of Le Quan Ninh perhaps, maybe a hint of Beins as well.

Good recording, worth checking out.


James Rushford/Joe Talia - Paper Fault Line (Bocian)

New names to me (though Anthony Pateras also appears), Rushford on viola, piano, synth, organ and many percussive objects, Talia wielding mostly percussion (also an LP).

How to describe? Side One is a fine welter of noise, with tones of percussion that tends towards the mid-range and higher pitched end of things, with electronics weaving in and out, the whole thing surging and ebbing. Like the Baxter above, very busy but without a feeling of fussiness, advancing with fervor, then retreating to bubble about and reconsider. The organ is surprising when it enters at the side's conclusion, tonal and church-like (or, at least, funereal).

The obverse side has more of a concrète feel at the beginning, but once again the organ appears, this time more deeply ethereal, with a faint choral aspect. The music continues in a slightly spooky vein, with glass-like tinkling and high keening provided by bowed material. There's an abrupt stoppage (no cuts are listed, so I'm reading this as a continuous work), followed by isolated electro-percussive tones, reminds me of something...Jarrett/DeJohnette from Ruta & Daitya? not sure. In any case, quite enjoyable and I'm interested in hearing more from this pair.

Bocian


"Blue" Gene Tyranny - Detours (Unseen Worlds)

Tyranny has always been something of a puzzle for me. First hearing him as part of Robert Ashley's ensemble, I took his keyboard work to be rather tongue-in-cheek, the flashiness and obvious technical prowess a kind of commentary on same, similar to the horror/enticement of the cocktail lounge-ish music, expertly done but quease-inducing. But on his solo piece on the brilliant "New Music from Antarctica" compilation, the modestly titled, "The World's Greatest Piano Player", he really seemed to revel in the raucous honky-tonkin' and I thought, hmmm, maybe this is really where his head is at. Subsequent music has more or less steered me in that direction, though I always retain an itch that has me wondering if I shouldn't be taking the music at face value, if, somewhere down there, Tyranny is chuckling...

In any case, I'm choosing to take this recording as it comes. Four works, delicate and tonal, sometimes possessing a Satie tinge, more often carrying more than a whiff of Jarrett at his soloing best (without the pomp or angst). There's a gentle country aura in "13 Detours"; one can picture a house pianist in a rural bar, by himself around 3AM, ambling about the keyboard, trying out arcane variations on what he'd played earlier. "George Fox Searches" is both the most overtly Jarrettian (though much better) as well as the most effective piece, though Tyranny cites a Quaker hymn as a source. It's a quite beautiful, sprawling 19 minutes, always interesting, often achingly lovely.

The other two compositions use electronics and tape. "She Wore Red Shoes" has a touch of the Ashley-era throb with a clipped rhythm embellished by florid pianistics, pleasant enough. "Intuition" is dreamy, with held notes and taped sounds of fireworks and maybe a calliope?

Nice work. Does a part of me desire more meat? Yes, but it's a reasonable enough dish as is, occasionally wuite piquant! :-)

unseen worlds




Yannick Franck - Memorabilia (Silken Tofu)

Six tracks of heavy, dark, slowly pulsing dronage. I'm afraid there's not too much else. Well-constructed and rich enough, but the kind of amorphous, throbbing mass that just can't hold my interest. Some annoying, if softly spoken vocal on the fifth track don't help. Nothing wrong with this, and of interest to those who really get into this area, but too indistinguishable from similar work by others and not nearly enough grit for yours truly.

Silken Tofu

Christian Wolff - Kompositionen 1950-1972 (Edition RZ)

Wolff occupies a rather unique position in my evaluative process, always has. There's something about his music, generally, that I deeply love and admire but I'll be damned if I can routinely pick out what that something is and, in the meantime, I find his work very, very difficult. This is made all the more problematic by its seeming (on the surface) simplicity and often relative tonality. There's a slipperiness to it, a conflict between the "should be graspable" and "leaking through my fingers" that persistently baffles me. Which all goes to its beauty, I imagine.

Coincidentally, shortly after writing the above, I saw an exchange with Michael Pisaro and Jon Abbey on facebook in which the former complained about the blandness in most of the performances on Disc One here. Now, I take for granted that Michael knows vastly more about Wolff and has far more experience with his music than I do, so I place substantial trust in his opinions. That's part of the reason that makes me reluctant to critically comment on certain areas of music, and Wolff is often one. Because I simply don't have the breadth of listening experience to differentiate at that level. I listen to the first piece here, "Duo for Violinist and Pianist, 1961", performed by Cardew and János Négyesy, and it sounds fine to me, difficult to grasp in the manner I mentioned above, but very enjoyable. I'm sure I'm missing something, perhaps as simple as having four or five other renditions at my disposal and the time to compare.

In any case, this 2-disc set presents performances of a range of early Wolff pieces realized from 1956 to 2011. Several stellar performers including Cardew, Tudor, Nelly Boyd, Rzewski and Rowe. I imagine there are differing opinions as to Rzewski's pianistic gifts, some finding him too steely, but I've always loved his attack and he does wonderfully here on four pieces, three recorded in 1963 (I think the earliest I've heard Rzewski), one in 1971, spare and delicate. There are two versions of "Edges", the first by Gentle Fire (Richard Bernas, Hugh Davies, Graham Hearn, Stuart Jones and Michael Robinson) from 1974, which elicited especial condemnation on that interchange cited above. I can see the point a bit; there's a kind of narrative aspect that seems out of place. It's certainly rough and, to my ears, doesn't hold a candle to the Rowe, but I can't quite hear it as utterly offensive, the overall sound closer to what you might have heard from Davies' Music Improvisation Company from around the same time. But Rowe's version is stunning. Hyper-quiet, with a restraint that's almost painful, small shimmers, clicks, flutters, radio...truly, the "edges" of sound. Worth the price for this alone.

Other pieces I especially enjoyed included the strong, droney "Duo for Violins" played by Daniella Strasvogel and Biliana Voutchkova; "Stones" is almost always delightful and is so here; the four pieces played by Tudor ("For Pianist 1959", "For 1, 2 or 3 People, 1964", For Piano I, 1952" and "Suite (I)"), each managing to be incredibly incisive in such a free-flowing world; and the lovely "Drinks", for glasses and liquids.

There may be justified carps for more experienced Wolffians than I, but I found this a very fine exposition of a segment of his work and highly recommend it.


Volker Heyn - Sirènes (Edition RZ)

Heyn is new to me. My first impression, on the opening track, "K'TEN" (2005), was something out of the Louis Andriessen mold; specifically it sounded very similar to the early work of Andriessen disciple Michael Gordon (not the highest praise in my book). The second piece, "Sirènes", is an intense string quartet that reminded me of Lachenmann, though again, my knowledge of the latter is pretty minimal. After the third cut, "Prelude zu Ferro Canto #1", for tape and orchestra, I gave up having any stylistic expectations, especially seeing that the next work was titled, "Blues in B-flat" for solo cello (and a very excellent one, at that).

The overall tenor of Heyn's work, if this can be considered a representative sampling, is rather harsh and aggressive, with slashing strings, jangling, grinding percussion and a lot of fff-ery. That fullness--one is tempted to say overstuffedness--can be bracing at times but over the long haul, is a bit exhausting in the sense of having received the ideas only to have them driven home once again. This is fine, I suppose, and Heyn is adept at it. It's a case where one's love of the music may come down to one's appreciation of the kind of character the music evokes. Personally, I opt for the more reticent (as in Wolff, above) but others may well be swept away by the vehemence and violence evinced herein.

Edition RZ

available stateside from erst dist