Hamid Drake & Mats Gustafsson - For Don Cherry

This is my fourth attempt at writing an acceptable blurb to go with this supurb recording.

Writing about one of your most treasured recordings is not only difficult, but very intimidating.

You want to give it the proper amount of reverence without building a reader's expectations too high.

Suffice it to say this recording moves me deeply, and it is unfortunate this limited release album is the sole document of this working duo.

Recorded in Chicago on the day of American trumpeter Don Cherry's death; it is unclear whether or not this event was known at the time of the performance. It certainly is played as such. The level of raw emotion and moments of stark emptiness here is profound.

Drake, heard here on djembe and standard trap drums, played with Cherry early in his recorded career. The reedsman Gustafsson, the younger of the pair, never appeared on record with Cherry. It is unknown to me whether or not they ever shared a stage, but the trumpeter's influence is apparent most clearly in Gustafsson's ongoing trio The Thing (with drummer Paal Nilssen-Love and double bassist Ingebrigt Haker-Flaten). Not only named after a piece from Cherry's Blue Note album Where Is Brooklyn?, a number of the trumpeter's compositions also rest in the band's repetoir.

The ties here are both of the flesh and clearly of the mind; the playing heard this night can easily be construed as the mourning of a lost friend and mentor.

Historical context aside, this date burns your speakers and fries your brain regardless.

Initially pressed in a limited quantity of 600 with no further reissue apparent, it is almost criminal to have this recording lost on the shelves of a relatively small amount of lucky aficianados. I dumbfoundedly stumbled across my secondhand copy years ago now; I cannot imagine what dire circumstances (either financial or mental) caused the previous owner to part with this disc.

This was previously a guest post I submitted on the completely incredible Folly For To See What? blog, before I had set up my own stakes and tentpole here. I am reposting this on home turf to try and further spread this spectre of a recording.

If you like the duo's playing here, you can find them together in a few in-print albums, albiet in larger groups. Most notably on several of the Peter Brotzmann Chicago Tentet recordings: Stone Water being a key record, also the Signs / Images pair of albums. You can also refer to the scorching double trio album Double Or Nothing, hosted by Gustafsson's AALY Trio and Ken Vandermark's DKV Trio, of which Drake inhabited the drum chair there. Coincidentally all the aforementioned albums, including this here out of print gem were released by the Okka Disk label based out of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Please support their efforts at any given opportunity.

After all, they along with a presumably destitute record collector helped give me forty of the best minutes of my music listening life.

Thank you all.

Hail Mary - All Aboard The Sinking Ship

Passing as a whimper in the latter days of the most recent surge of creative American Hardcore, HAIL MARY's "All Aboard The Sinking Ship" is an underrated classic.

Not given much thought in the mainstream "punk" press of the time (re: Maximum Rock 'N Roll, HeartattaCk); this is a magnificent, if not revelatory punk record birthed of the end of a millennium, also coincidentally the end of a modern phase of underground music. This album is one of the last artifacts of the pre-internet age in hardcore. I hate to use one of the greatest improvements in human communication since the printing press as an age-divider, but such seems the case these days.

The popular comparisons of the time blindly related this band to the blazing torch-bearer of 90's DIY hardcore, BORN AGAINST. At the time, and now, this seemed more relevant to their visual aesthetic than the actual sound of the band. While sometimes approximating the aforementioned BORN AGAINST, it also seemed to reference BLACK FLAG, HEROIN, THE DEAD KENNEDYS, BL'AST, and ARTICLES OF FAITH in equal measure.

This derogatory claim was partly supported by the fact that a majority of the band's records (a 7" EP and this 12" album) were released on said bands' proprietary label, the now defunct VERMIFORM.

This is purely lazy criticism.

Speaking of lazy criticism, the bastion of such - HeartattaCk - even went so far as to suggest nepotism in the releasing of this record; given the fact that the label was run by then ex-members of the watershed band.

Bullshit I say.

Of course this is easy for me to say, given the time passed since the album was released to a slightly underwhelmed Punk Public.

Taken on its surface merits, this is an outstanding hardcore punk album. The band bucks several trends of the day, possibly leading to why it was not (superficially at least) more highly regarded upon its release.

The most immediate signifier is Mark Telfian's plain-spoken, fairly audible shouted vocals. It seemed in 1998, the year of release of this record, that the more throat-garbled and anguished a scream you issued on record, the more true and therefore popular your record was. Again, complete horseshit.

I dare one to find a recording of their peers with such vocal and lyrical clarity as this record. In a scene that at least superficially recognizes the importance of the words behind the music as much as the music itself; this is a serious deficiency amongst the majority of contemporaries of this band, as well as a majority of the bands that have appeared in the wake.

To this writer this is seen most clearly through the following song on the album.
Written from the singer's openly queer point of view; over a decade later remains starkly prescient.

"True freedoms something taken for granted
Spoken to us through social standards
Can't force people who are different to adjust
Life's not that simple some day I hope you see

Your morals so sickening
Your values are fucked
In need of diversion
You continue blaming us

A growing number of people think they are on top
Not realizing the shit they spread is a waste
Trying to ignore the obvious facts
Hope and want to keep us bottled away"

HAIL MARY - Diversion

DL

Noisegate - As We Were Walking

Has a band ever made you want to take a shit?

Like involuntarily?

That was Noisegate.

I saw Noisegate once at the Gilman Street Project back in 1998. They were opening for Jenny Piccolo and perhaps The Young Pioneers, whom I was primarily there to see.

I had no idea.

A few guys set up a few keyboards and synths; one other guy a bass guitar.

I stayed inside to watch them, but not too close. At this point I was not the asshole that stands before you today, in that I would stick around and watch bands even if I did not know who they were. Oh well.

Once they were ready the lights went down.

A low rumble rose from the center of the earth.

At once a bright white light flared up on the stage, with what to my young mind at the time perceived as several dozen amplifiers and a jet engine. It was probably only a few. But they were fucking loud.

The light seemed to be right underneath the fellow playing the bass, and he looked like he was singing into the mic; although I couldn't tell for sure. It was fucking loud.

I must have been standing in some perfect 12 foot interval from the amps, because this was hitting me hard. My hairs were standing up, and the floor felt like cellophane. It was great.

This must have went on for about half an hour. Somewhere in there my colon said, “Fuck it.”.

I took care of business (if you've been to Gilman, you know the testicular fortitude I displayed at the time) and bought a record. It was called “The Towers Are Burning” and did their set justice, although it did not make me rush to the bathroom. Maybe it was my stereo.

This record I am sharing with you on the other hand, is much different. I felt I had to share my bowel-oriented story to illustrate the breadth of what this band was capable of. A few years after said encounter with live Noisegate, I picked up this CD after not hearing much about them. Instead of another blast of the End of The World, I was met with what could have been the product of Merzbow and Brian Eno playing in a haunted house. I liked this much better.

They released one more album after this, entitled “Suspended Animation: Ambient Vol.1” on the tUMULt label. As We Were Walking is an expansion of a track on this album by the same name.

I waited for the implied “Vol. 2” for a long time. No such luck. That was it.

One half of the group soldiered on as the aptly-named Beneath the Lake, releasing a few more records.

My advice here; put aside about forty minutes, turn down the lights and hide the cat. Enjoy.

Status Report: Constipated

All,

Fear not brave readers, I have not abandoned my post.

I am currently building up a little backlog of material so I can get this party going full force.

My vinyl transferring is up and running, which will be the prime focus from here on out.

Another stumbling block (of many) is figuring out how to scan a 12" x 12" cover on an 8" x 11" scanner bed. Puzzling.

To whet appetites, here is my short list of upcoming posts:

Noisegate - As We Were Walking
Donald Ayler - Live in Florence, 1981
Saint James Infirmary - Both Singles and Full Length
Dewey Redman - Tarik
Physics - Live, November 1999
Jack Rose - 2006 Tour CD
Spotlight on Milford Graves - Paul Bley's Barrage and Lowell Davidson Trio
Hail Mary - All Aboard the Sinking Ship

This should keep me off the streets for the next few months, please stay tuned for more excitement!

Thank you to my friends who have offered words of encouragement. It's a big help. I will do my best to keep this AWESOME.

Peas.

Polvo - Can I Ride

Fuck Nirvana, seriously.

Given a similar Butch Vig production of their own, the single Can I Ride? completely trumps the inane Smells Like Teen Spirit - also released in the seminal year of 1991.

Coming from a similar scene of largely DIY "independent" rock of the time, one has to question what kind of lamp Cobain & Company rubbed to land where they did, with the songs they had. Ugh. But I digress; this post is to celebrate the arguably superior noise-drenched ramblings of North Carolina's own Polvo.

Taking their name from the Spanish word for "dust" is appropriate, seeing as how that is usually the substance they leave their peers behind in. This post is centered around their own Initial Public Offering, the brilliant 2x7" "single" Can I Ride? Released on the archaic sounding double-single format, this is the sound of a great band taking their first steps into the world. What great steps those are.

Re-released a few years later (1995!) on a still limited CD format via the "Jesus Christ Records" imprint (from which this post is ripped from); this valiant recording seems to be lost to the sands of indie rock time. Not if I can help it.

Taking into account their more popular peers of the time: Pavement on the West Coast, who had just barely issued their debut Slanted and Enchanted; and Sebadoh, far off in Massachusets with their own album III hot off the press, one has to wonder why Polvo was only met with moderate attention throughout their initial lifespan in the 1990's.

But really, given such a strong initial showing as "Can I Ride", and its superior follow up albums "Cor-Crane Secret" and "Today's Active Lifestyles" - issued either at the same time or BEFORE such era-defining albums as Nevermind or Siamese Dream, or even lesser-known watershed albums like Spiderland or Slanted and Enchanted; and also coincidentally being free of all aforementioned albums' own weighty sense of self-worth - why the band isn't more widely known is beyond my mortal reckoning.

It's probably the guitars. They sound FUCKED up. Like GOOD fucked up. Often accused of being out of tune in the live setting, little did the public realize this was a concerted effort at bombarding folks with non-Western tones and tunings. Bully! This very fascination with Eastern music would be one of the reasons why the band split in late 1997, shorty after the recording of their Touch and Go swansong Shapes. Guitarist Dave Brylawski would go on sabbatical abroad for several years at the dissolution of the group.

They can't say they didn't warn you; quoted from the lyrics of their very own song "Every Holy Shroud" (Celebrate the New Dark Age, 1993) - "Well I know what it sounds like - I hope they care - and we just bought a sitar - so be prepared." Bam!

Luckily (for me), as a band they have seen through the error of their ways and begun playing again. Earlier this year (2008) they performed for the first time in upwards of a decade at the behest of Explosions in the Sky (?!?) for an installment of the ongoing All Tomorrow's Parties festivals, and are touring throughout the end of the calendar year as well. It seems that time is finally on their side, as many fans of intriguing guitar music have found a champion in Polvo. Obviously far ahead of their time, many of their sounds produced through merely six strings and an amplifier have eluded many a guitar player since. Sonic Youth aside, you would be hard pressed to name another group with such an affinty for strange sounds made with an electric guitar and yet maintain such a catchy, traditional rock band sound. On the Polvo side of this equation, this would be discounting any Glenn Branca or Rhys Chatham affliliations - two of the more illustrious names that the axe-wielders in Sonic Youth have had the priviledge to study with first-hand. Advantageous or not?

Anyway, all contention aside; Polvo remains an amazing slice of eccentric guitar-rock, guns blazing. 'Nuff said.

I'll see you in San Francisco this September when they triumphantly skronk out at Bimbo's 365 Club. Fuck yeah.

This particular slab is merely the beggining, all strengths aside, it does not match up to their magnum opus "Today's Active Lifestyles", the keynote address in their platform of dissonant pop magic; but it offers a very clairvoyant look into their future, as well the very future of guitar-driven indepedent rock music. Beware.

Cecil Taylor - Dark To Themselves

This one is a motherfucker.

I'm not kidding. Its currently choking a Rapidshare server as I type this post. 49%!

Yes, I said Rapidshare.

Not even two hours ago I said I would try to keep my posts hosted on free, easily-accessible sites. Well technically Rapidshare is free, but there are a few hoops to be jumped through.

Jump, my puppies.

I did not compute that my maiden post was a single-track, 1+ hour tour de force. At my promised 320kbps it would well exceed what I can upload to many free-access sites. I did not want to chop up this gorgeous slab of sound for sake of accessibility, so you will have to deal with the slightly annoying lag that free users of Rapidshare have to endure. My apologies.

On to the music.

I won't wax nerdish on you; musician, record collector, or otherwise. This is a tremendous outing any way you look at it. Its not available in the "NEW" section at any shop you may shop at (as of this writing), and you may be lucky to stumble on this with a yellow sticker stuck to it. I have been lucky enough to find both the shiny 5" and dusty 12" version of this album. This post is taken from the CD issue, as "sections which were previously excised to fit the LP format" are included to paint a complete picture of this performance. Stunning!

Scoffing traditionalists take heed - say what you want about the man and his art; but observant readers will note that both my blogger URL and email are swiped from the Taylor vaults. This is no coincidence! I even named my cat after the man; and I am a pretty normal dude, so he must be doing something right.

Here are the personnel deets, note the rare lack of a bassist in The Unit;

1. Streams and Chorus of Seed

Cecil Taylor - Piano
Raphe Malik - Trumpet
Jimmy Lyons - Alto Saxophone
David S. Ware - Tenor Saxophone
Marc Edwards - Drums

Recorded live at the 17th Yugoslavian Jazz Festival
in Ljubljana (yes I typed that correctly), June 18th 1976.

Nerd if you want to: This is also a rare recorded appearance in The Unit by both drummer Marc Edwards, who you can read about here; and the inimitable reedman David S. Ware of, well, the David S. Ware Quartet most notably.

Link to be posted in the comments section. Have patience.

I'll close this post with the poem included with the album, penned by Taylor.

Dry Run

Hello friends,

I have a lot of music, its really embarrassing sometimes.

I've been inspired recently by a number of great music blogs to get off my ass and share a bit of my collection with others. I have discovered so much wonderful music in the past few weeks that I'd like to try and return the favor to some people.

I intend to post musics ranging from avant garde jazz to hardcore punk, noise rock to barely audible hiss. 7" singles to double albums; whatever. I hope you like it.

I am going to start with some CDs as I work out my vinyl recording situation. I intend to share everything as 320kbps MP3s, I am not going to fuck around with .FLAC or anything else other people would have trouble playing, even though it sounds better. I will try to keep my posts hosted on free sharing sites, but I know that can be troublesome. Although I occasionally have a Rapidshare account, I don't expect everyone else to. I am open to suggestions.

Of course, if somehow you are an artist or represent an artist that is posted here and you object to said posting - please let me know. I have the most noble of intentions here, keeping my posts limited to records that have fallen out of print and deserve to be heard; but ultimately I respect the desires of the artist. I will nevertheless laugh at you for being a big baby, but will pull objectionable material regardless. Just don't get mad at me.

With that out of the way, I will be posting the namesake of my URL shortly; Cecil Taylor's "Dark to Themselves". We'll see how that goes.

See you soon.