Two horns, two basses, and Hamid Drake. This album is the twin to the Anderson, Drake, Jordan, Parker, Silva album “Two Days in April”. Both are exercises in energy playing and both are great examples of Modern Titans playing at the peak of their powers.
I would say the funny, or interesting, part about contrasting the two releases is that on “Two Days in April”, I got the feeling it was Jordan who was keeping Anderson on his toes and not letting him lapse into easy choices. On “The All Star Game”, it is Allen, most well known for his work in Sun Ra’s Arkestra, who is goosing Jordan with some altissimo figure or screech every time he attempts to lapse into an easy groove. As a horn player, it makes it fun to listen to the interplay between the two men’s ideas.
Given the large Brotzmann-esque expressions of Rempis’ Ballister, it is interesting to listen to this album of quiet, small gestures. Or, well, quieter, smaller gestures.
Even percussion dervish Corsano keeps it on the restrained side of free.
Quite pleasant and enjoyable. The most interesting part is probably trying to identify which instrument is making which squeal, thump, or whirr. Plus, good song titles like, “Stand Up for Bastard” (Woo! Bonus points for King Lear Allusion!) and “Swinging’ Apoplexy”.
My Millennial Coworker loaned me this album and I have been, I won’t say “avoiding” exactly, but I have been procrastinating listening to it.
Anyway, the name comes from a Star Trek episode, “All Our Yesterdays,” wherein the “Atavachron” is an alien time travel device.
On this album Holdworth deploys the “Synth-Axe”, a guitar shaped midi controller, an instrument which would become his signature on several albums. The synth axe allows him to trigger synthesizers/samplers using events generated from his fretboard.
This is a fine example of Sci-Fi inspired 80s Rock-Fusion, with all the sign posts of that genre. Many chords and many, many notes.
Impressive, in many ways, but also feels a bit slight in the goals all these impressive techniques are applied towards. More technique than meaning, if you will.
While I was aware of the individual members of this group, (Dave Remis, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Paal Nilssen-Love,) I didn’t know, until I read about a recent East Coast Tour, that they had a group together. Saxophones, cello, percussion, and electronics.
This is improvised music of the squonk-ey, squeal-ey, and occasionally tender sort. Quite pleasant and invigorating. I was more than a little sad that my commute ended before the album did, but am looking forward to the listening to the remainder on my trip home.
The Necks are an Australian trio, generally Keyboards, Percussion, and Bass, whose performances and albums are based on ideas of Improvisation. That is, whatever happens at a performance is not planned in advance, it is just what happens. Their technique is more based around the idioms of pop and classical, rather than “Jazz” or “Free Jazz”. If, indeed, they do have precursors in the Jazz world, it is player/composers like Bill Evans and Chick Corea.
A while ago, I went through an impulsive phase, based on information from wire magazine, where I bought pretty much every early The Necks album, and listened through them.
After thus fortifying myself, I came to the conclusion that, while I can appreciate The Necks for their technique and aesthetic, I don’t find them particularly interesting.
I thought I should revisit these conclusions after reading Geoff Dyer’s piece on the band in last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine, in which he alleges that they are, “The Greatest Trio on Earth”. Nope, as much as I can appreciate them intellectually, their music still doesn’t do much for me.
The poetry is written and performed by Camae Ayewa, who also goes by the name Moor Mother.
Similar messages to her work on Fetish Bones but a different context. Somehow I find it easier to listen to these messages in the context of jazz improvisation than in the context of experimental electronic music.
A fine group of young men, playing freely and creatively.
Trombone, Saxophone, Percussion, and Double Bass.
Thinking about what language to use and differentiate this from yesterday’s DEK Trio album, other than just different instruments and different people.
Or, maybe that is enough?
Well, they both seem to be mostly improvised music and both are live albums. Red October is a larger group, (and particularly impressively recorded for being recorded live). Burning Below Zero has a piano, but no bass and a single wind instrument, giving it a different feel. Polyorchard’s album contains fewer allusions to popular music. Both have very impressive players. Both are great albums.
Will need to work on this idea of differentiating modern improvised musics. On the “to-do list”.
Burning Below Zero by Elizabeth Harnik / Didi Kern / Ken Vandermark aka DEK Trio.
Wonderfully diverse playing both in terms of technique and content. Everything from Free Squonk to Classical to African Pentatonics shows up as you pass by. Just waiting for you to dip in and and sample. A cornucopia of thoughts and feelings, bursting at the seams.
I’ve enjoyed Ben Frost’s albums in the past, so I was intrigued when I heard he was working with Steve Albini on this new one. Albini is known as something of an iconoclast and a fancier of obscure analog recording equipment, so I was curious what would happen when someone as tied to digital sound technology as Ben Frost would collide with Albini’s world view.
My initial reaction was that the album sounded a bit retro, reminding me of some of Tangerine Dream or John Carpenter’s soundtrack work from the 70s. Something about the keyboard washes.
However, digging deeper, I started to hear more interesting sounds. Sonar Pings, Heartbeats, etc.
So, I’m a little on the fence. I do like “Entropy in Blue” quite a lot.
The title refers to William Butler Yeats most famous, and most quoted, apocalyptic poem, “The Second Coming”. The titles of the songs themselves are quite topical. “A Single Hellfire Missile Costs $100,000” and “Healthcare” are actual song titles.
In any case, Yeats’ words “…what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem”, are, unfortunately, sounding far too prophetic.