Being thankful for an earful.
Brand new music by Marie Davidson, Niecy Blues (feat. Joy Guidry), CEL, Marisa Anderson and Luke Schneider, Stina Stjern, Carmen Villain, Murcof, A Lily, and Far Golden Pavilions, with music from the vaults by Tomaga, Ozzobia, Jan Jelinek.
Sushi photo by Lindsay.
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Scott Sinfield and Jon Attwood (or Portal and Yellow6) met when Attwooddonated guitar for a track on Portal's debut album. Shortly thereafter,the pair began making music together on a limited basis. They sharedthe stage on tour, backing each other for their respective projects,and for a series of split EPs in 2000, they covered each other's songs.Finally, on the debut release from their own label, Make Mine Music,the two properly collaborate. Both Portal and Yellow6 get two tracks apiece on this split, as well as the four tracks they perform together,and in this case the whole truly is greater than the sum of its parts.I'll go as far as to say the two gentlemen should start a new bandtogether, bring vocalist Rachel Hughes along for the ride, and leavetheir separate discographies in the dust. Portal starts off the releasewith a cold air, a temperature setting that remains for half therelease. Hughes, who has worked with Sinfield since his debut, soundsdetached and aloof, as she sings about her misconceptions and seeminglyundying hope. Then, on "The First Breath of Winter," the chill settlesin, as breath turns to mist, and the programmed beat, keyboards, andechoed guitar emit languish in their confines. The track threatens togo somewhere, but ultimately stays static, yet again reinforcing adetachment and brushing off. Yellow6 seems to take this frozen energyat face value, presenting "Threefold," a track that starts with simpleguitar structures and a minimalist beat. None of this should beperceived as negative: the song is still enough to make the heartpatter, albeit at a slower pace. At about the three minute mark,though, Yellow6 returns to form, opening the door for virulentdistortion that spills everywhere. This is not warmth that lasts,however, as the track ends on the same cold note on which it began."The Sinking Sun" is also appropriately titled, as though the lunarteam is stuck, and they watch the daylight fade, unable to stop it orsave themselves. Even in the clutches of such a cold death, the moonseems to shift its rotation on the next track, the first of thecontributions to feature both artists. Suddenly, there is hope,possibility, life, and a hint of meaning to all of existence. It's thatpowerful, that moving, and it lasts for nigh on twenty-four minutes.Sometimes, the cold fights to return, such as on "#5," but it isn'tstrong enough to cause the ice age it threatens. The fire stays, evenbuilds somewhat glacially on "#3;" and although both Sinfield andAttwood shouldn't quit their day jobs, they should make a record likethis together and share more of this ambient wonder with the world.Make Mine Music also shows potential as a quite progressive label, withPortal, Yellow6, and Epic 45 full-lengths already released orforthcoming.
Completely out of the blue comes an extraordinary little CD, sopowerful in its minute way, hugely evocative and humane. The clues towhat's going on are in the photos—a living room recording set up withMr. Appelqvist marshalling apparently amateur singers. He plays thepiano and a few other things, talks to the singers and they sing. It isthe intimacy of it that is most compelling, so intense that it isalmost unbearable but beautiful and joyous in such an honest and directway that is truly unique. Only a few of the Songs in the Key of Zcome close and none have this fragility or fluidity. Zenna and Marieare the two little girls on the first track, they sing a song inSwedish chat and then "Be What You Wanna Be" in English. They don'tseem to know all the words, loose their way, mumble some lines but nomatter—they come back to the chorus with enthusiasm and unaffectedpositivity that only the Langly Schools Music Project can touch.Appelqvist's lively playing is deft and idiosyncratic with a delightfullight touch that adds much musicality without moving beyond the role ofaccompaniment. The directness and total absence of artifice carriesover to the sound quality, which is simply brilliant. It puts you rightthere in that mundane living room with these wonderful people topositively eerie effect, as though you were invading someone's privacy.Xiang, more grown up and probably Chinese, sings on track two. Sheexpresses the self-consciousness that comes after childhood and beforeactual maturity. Ruth, older again, is soloist on track three. Hersong, "Geh aus, mein Herz," is given a strangely menacing backdrop witha few heavy guitar chords and ethereal flutes. She sings with theconfidence of someone who has been through motherhood and long sincesent her children off into the world. She seems to treat Appelqvist'sproject with the indulgence she would give to her grandchildren'santics. One could perhaps say that this disk is about language, how itaffects music, how song, intonation and melody adapt to it. The girlssound so different in English from Swedish, Xiang shows that the melodyof Chinese is inescapable, and Ruth's song in German shows thestrictness of that language and how uncomfortable it is with melody.Interesting as this thought may be, the real stuff here is in theemotion and how we lose so much of that with all the manufacturinginvolved in the other music we hear. 
After a series of EPs and singles, northern England's 2 By Bukowski have released their second full, experimenting with spare, atmospheric soundscapes and wild, jarring collisions of noise. On Drink From My Bastard Grail,they straddle the line of introspective ambient and volatilepsyche-rock, offering energizing slivers of each throughout the disc."Chopperfuck" begins with a filthy, snarling guitar riff over slow,crawling drumbeats and heavy, distorted chords that swirl like anintense storm. Suddenly a distant female voice pokes through and theclouds lift as a calm, meditative melody wisps along with it. Therespite is short-lived, and the track once again climbs upward in afrenzy of distorted squeals and groans. "Wild Manner" is a vicious,screaming assault of amplifier feedback, lurching along full of biliousthrust. It's a frenetic sound, yet one that is underpinned by a solid,restrained rhythm that keeps everything from flying out in everyconceivable direction a la Comets on Fire. Bukowski are a far moreprecise outfit than that. The energy can be felt bubbling beneaththere, but the control makes the track all the more tense and cohesive.A simple arrangement of piano triads leads "I Am Ready For Death inThis Dominion," coupled with synthesized strings to give the air of amournful funeral procession. Bukowski plays with standard, thoughtfulpieces as well, eschewing the noise for expansive compositions thatoperate through mood and texture rather than gut reactions. "The LastAerie" and "Gate 3" both take the slow road, the latter using trebledchirps and gurgling effects to evoke a teeming brook and gusts out intoa pleasing pastoral wash. The movement between the louder and softertracks doesn't result in dissonance, but in fact highlights thestrengths of each in contrast. Just when 2 By Bukowski sounds as ifthey are going to pull apart and shatter, they slip in with a welcomeand rejuvenating break from the schizophrenia. An excess of either endof the spectrum would have made for a stale listen, but the group showsthat they can sound powerful and dynamic whether mired in sludgy rockor icy ambiance. 'Drink From My Bastard Grail' is soothing, enervating,pleasing, and provocative. With these tensions rubbing against oneanother, the friction they generate makes for an engaging listen. 
The third single Dave Pajo's series of audio tour diaries showcases hisinterpretation of a couple of covers and one original track; recordedin Bloomington and Chicago while on tour with his current day job,Zwan. Pajo's vocals and country-influenced guitar pickin' on thetraditional "Wild Mountain Thyme" convey the tune's original spirit.Background vocals and strings from collaborators Molly Kien and MaggiePolk make this track all the more authentic. My current favoritehurtin' tune would be Pajo's cover of Little Feat's "Truckstop Girl"with its jangly capo'ed acoustic guitar that, while beautifully played,brings a sadness along with vocals that sing of the end of a loveaffair that results in tragedy. Although the overdubbed electricguitars that take the tune out are fairly simple, their tone and timingare very powerful in context. The original "Who Knows" has Pajohandling the duties of drummer and bass player along with hismulti-tracked vocals and guitars on a relaxed tune whose interestingcountry-tinged chord changes and lyrics feel very comfortable. As thesesingles are being released, I've been wondering if any of the materialmight surface on the next full-length Papa M release. As I'd mentionedin a prior review, there's a certain charm to hearing these tunesstripped down as they are. If this is what Mr. Pajo has been up towhile he's busy on the road, the results from being in a more relaxedstudio environment should be all the more exciting.
For the first release under his own name, guitarist Jeff Parker(Tortoise/Isotope 217) presents a disc of fairly straight-ahead jazzcompositions in a trio setting featuring longtime associates and fellowChicago Undergrounders Chris Lopes on upright bass and Chad Taylor ondrums. Although Parker's playing is the main focal point with thisformat, the group's well-crafted compositions and support convey anhonesty of a collective recording that just happens to feature theguitar, moreso than a soloist with a backing group. A few free-jazzfreakouts are also included for good measure. Taylor's heartfeltcomposition, "Miriam," opens the disc as a brushed waltz of warm chordchanges that briefly sneak into double time throughout subtle guitarsoloing. The disc's uptempo title track, penned by Lopes, features somecool vamping sections at the chorus' turnaround that solidify thestructure and give a strong reference point during each player's solo.Named for his daughter, Parker's "Days Fly By (with Ruby)" moves froman oom-pah styled unison guitar and bass intro over Taylor's busy brushsoloing to finger snapping swing for some tasteful playing on anoverall great composition. The only hint of structure on thefree-spirited "Omega Sci Fi" are the blasts of walking bass lines thatplay against bombastic drums, splintered cymbals and scraping guitarfor four minutes of busy instrumental dialogue that chases down thenext line to be stated. Fans of Parker's work that have come to expecta certain style of playing and tone with his above mentioned maingroups, along with other projects such as Toe 2000 and Tricolor shouldbe pleasantly surprised with this album. A more traditional style ofwriting and playing that hadn't been as evident before shinesthroughout the recording and shows the vast talent of a great player.
Back before the Internet and World Wide Web allowed music junkies to connect with others and trade secrets, fans of bands in areas of the world far outside the band's nucleus had to rely on sources like magazines and books for the best information they could get on a group. Despite being a project from former Wire members, the experimental music contained didn't make it a title which warranted an in-print status and copies worldwide were rather scarce. As a young Wire fan, it had been on my personal wish list for years. When I finally discovered it in 1998 as a used record for $30 my heart jumped. I finally found it!Boutique
The excitement of owning it became more important than actually hearing it as by the time I got home and listened on my record player, the vinyl was so old, coarse, and poorly maintained that it was borderline painful to listen to. The collected recordings from Russel Mills along with Wire's Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis, recorded at a 24-day installation are a perfect example of one of my strong beliefs: quiet music is not meant for vinyl. In the same way that hearing Mirror's Eye of the Storm on CD for the first time (after being familiar with a vinyl version whose cracks and pops became louder than the music) hearing these recordings from the Waterloo Gallery matches—and might even surpass—my excitement of finding the record in a used bin. Wire split in February of 1980, and by August of 1981, Lewis and Gilbert already had a number of releases under their belt as Dome and Kupol. They wanted to do something more intense than simply release records and do an occasional performance, and this experiment in London's Waterloo Gallery, a former meat-packing warehouse. Over the course of 24 days, the three basically had a work-in-progress, changing rooms, creating sounds from trash, using PAs and microphones to record pubic reactions and filter them in, breaking down exhibits and building new ones. The resulting recording is two 21-minute recordings which covered each side of the original record, assembled in a multitude of movements, all with completely different sources and motives. While the recordings were the exhibition ambience, it's surprisingly unlike an ambient recording, as pieces are arranged together without the sense of lengthy, drawn-out pieces that go on way too long. From spacious echoes to whooping bird-like sounds, chiming metal and looped vocal samples mimicing radio static, hearing this without the clicks is heavenly. The accompanying booklet has a great interview about some of what went in to the performance as well as some public reaction. Photos are also included as they were for the original release along with some which weren't available the first time around. It's obvious that a good amount of care went into the reissue of this and I look forward to more obscure gems from the vaults to surface on this new division of LTM.
It's not surprising that the first full-length Gold Chains release isreceiving mixed reviews. Everybody's only used to hearing a GC productin shorter increments—and the reason why that works so perfectly isthat it's complimentary to the unique GC style. Topher LaFata, whobasically -is- Gold Chains is one mad talented motherfucker. His rap isdensely packed, rarely ever pausing to let the music to exist on itsown, while the music is so intricate and involved, changing stylesoften from bar to bar. By the second track he's gone from four on thefloor techno to swinging post-industrial, and nerdy glitch pop all in amatter of minutes. The swapping of styles continues for the rest of therelease, from parodies of big buck rap to jazzy interludes. Couple thiswith rare occurances of lyrical repetition or a "chorus," and tuning into the music demands complete and undivided attention. Only untilrepeated listens are instruments like live drums, piano, and guitarseven audible, since the subject matter of the rap is such an involvedfantasy world that it's hard to pay attention to everything else that'sgoing on. Thankfully lyrics were included this time around. Reading thelyrics without the music is also a fun exercise as they make greatjournal entries or stream of consciousness writing on their own. Topherloves to play with language, with a number of themes which seem toresurface. Themes about San Francisco, society, sex, drugs, money, and"warpping that Cali cooch in Prada" are amusing but crashing 11 songsof that in a row makes this album work best as a record to be paused inthe middle while the listener's got to get up off their ass and go flipit. In a bizarre way, it all makes sense that Topher is an oldindustrial fan, a former punk bass player, and allegedly an intensecomputer programmer. Gold Chains is almost like the prog-rock of modernelectronic laptop rap, as the music is so dense, academicallyflamboyant, technically nerdy, but superbly addictive after its hookshave sunk in. Some people claim that with an expensive video and theright promotion, this guy could be huge, but I think at this point hismusic is far more involved than the general public can handle. I lookforward to the "techno" album LaFata claims to be working on as even anold GC tune like "Burn Babylon" has the fabulous powers of sexy killerhooks. The question remains: if world domination is in the dreams ofGC, is he willing to dumb his music down for the masses? I sure as hellhope not.
In addition to some suitably odd printed art cards and scrying mirrors,every live box set also includes a black plastic clamshell containingthis, a tour-only CD available at some of Coil's most recent shows. ANScontains three long tracks of about 20 minutes each, consisting solelyof tones made with the Russian ANS synthesizer. Invented by EugenyMurzin in 1938, only one ANS synthesizer has ever actually been built,and it sits neglected and obscure, collecting dust in the basement ofMoscow State University since 1958. Coil were given access toexperiment and record with the strange machine, and their experimentsare chronicled on this disc. ANS is a "photoelectric" instrument thatproduces music via a completely unique process. The user must inscribea series of line drawings that represent visible sound waves onto aseries of glass discs. The shape, location and nature of the drawingsdetermines the sound that the synthesizer produces, which encompassesthe entire range of audible sound, 720 pure tones. Unfortunately, thefascinating history and musical theory behind the ANS instrument isultimately far more interesting than the music Coil has managed to makewith it. While there are many dramatic points of convergence buriedwithin these abstract, long-form compositions, the overall effect is ofdilettantes noodling around with an unfamiliar piece of equipment thatreportedly takes years to properly master. Though there are some partsof ANS that are reminiscent of Time Machines, none of thesepieces has the trance-inducing intensity of that album's minimalistdrones. Reportedly, Coil are remixing and expanding ANS into anofficial double album release scheduled for later this year. Perhapswith a bit of the signature Coil touch added to these naked tones, thismaterial will come alive. As it stands, ANS is a fascinating but musically non-compelling tangent into the avant-garde realm of theoretical music.
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MEGALITHOMANIA!With each box set, Coil includes a CD-R of their performance at theMegalithomania! Festival. This disc cannot be purchased separately, andis available only as part of the limited edition box. It's a very nicebonus indeed, as this performance is unique among Coil's live history,and marks a sort of turning point for the group. Megalithomania!was a celebration of sacred sites and standing stones as expressedthrough history, folklore, art and sound. Basically, everything thatJulian Cope was on about in his mammoth tome "The Modern Antiquarian."For this special event, Coil performed a long, drawn-out permutation on"The Universe is a Haunted House," turning the piece into a slowlyevolving ambient sound sculpture involving the ghostly sound of waterdroplets, quietly droning synths, and a particularly spectral vocalimprovisation from Balance. As reported by many people who attended theevent, there seemed to be a strange rift between Balance and Sleazy,evidenced by John's agitated screaming: "Why are you here? Why are youhere?" Balance's statement that "we are the alien" could be read as atribute to the extra-terrestrial builders of Stonehenge, or as afurther statement of his growing alienation from his long-time partner.A few days after this performance, Peter and John announced that whileCoil would continue, they would no longer describe themselves as acouple. Sad, indeed, but these personal matters cannot overshadow avery unique and powerful performance. As the tension and mutationcompounds over the 40-minute length, Balance's alien incantations fightfor prominence with Thighpaulsandra's thick slabs of stoned-Druidsynthesizer. The recording is spotless, highlighting all of the ghostlyminutiae of this one-of-a-kind Coil show.
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When it was announced that Coil would play their first live show inNorth America on August 18, 2001, I was shocked by what seemed like anincredible series of synchronicities. I had long considered Coil to beone of my favorite bands, but I thought there would be little or nochance of ever seeing them play live. Though they had recently begunplaying select concerts at some classy venues and festivals in Europe,they just seemed far too shadowy, eccentric and English to ever graceAmerican shores. Strangely, the day announced for the concert was notonly my birthday, butmy 23rd birthday, a number commonly involved with synchronicity, and anumber often mythologized by Coil themselves. Also, before hearing theannouncement, I had already planned a trip to New York City tocelebrate my birthday. It seemed as if mysterious forces had aligned into make certain that I would not miss this Coil performance. However, Idid not have very high expectations for the concert itself. Sure, Coilwere mind-bending and transcendent on record, but how could theircomplex, studio-hermetic sound possibly translate into a meaningfullive show? Coil's liveperformance is a revelation; a powerful, dramatic explosion of dynamicenergy, every bit as impressive as their recorded output, but somehoweven more potent and overwhelming. The absolutely massive soundachieved by Sleazy's digital programming, Thighpaulsandra's soaringsynthesizers and Jhon Balance's possessed outbursts clearly neededproper documenting on record. Recently, Coil inaugurated abackwards-unfolding series of four live CDs, each documenting adifferent "age" of their constantly evolving live show. To thosewilling to shell out nearly $200, Threshold House also offered alimited box set of all four discs, together with two extra CD-Rs and"art objects" allegedly "loaded with magickal intent".
LIVE THREE
This documents a Spring 2002 show performed inBologna. It was an interesting period for Coil performances, asThighpaulsandra temporarily left the line-up to tour withSpiritualized. To make up for his noticeable absence, Peter and Johnenlisted Mike York and Cliff Stapleton to fill in with hurdy-gurdy andBreton pipes. This new, exotic instrumentation adds an unstable,organic element to the performance that works well with the setlistchosen for these shows. The disc opens with the ritualized workout of"Anarcadia: All Horned Animals." If you've heard The Remote ViewerEP, these ethnic-inflected drones will sound very familiar, notentirely dissimilar from Taj Mahal Travellers or The Magic Carpathiansat their most psychedelic. "Amethyst Deceivers" is here again, one offour slightly variant versions available in the box set. The classictrack "Slur" from Horse Rotorvator is given a faithful rendition, butBalance's voice is not quite equal to the job of singing this one, andMarc Almond's backing vocals are sorely missed. Balance dedicates "ACold Cell" to all the prisoners of the world, as well as those "inprisons of their own making." It's always been a haunting song, and thelive version enhances its lonely, melancholic atmosphere. Track six isan accomplished recreation of "Paranoid Inlay" from Musick To Play in the Dark 2,even though the tracklisting on the back of the digipack omits itcompletely. "Sick Mirrors (Version)" is a meditation on the concept ofremote viewing utilizing dense Middle Eastern melodies. The songseamlessly segues into a frighteningly intense version of "A.Y.O.R.,"the second of three songs in this set that may have been destined forCoil's long-promised-but-never-delivered Nothing Records album, nowreferred to as The World Ended a Long Time Ago. "Backwards"ends the set, a joyous psychosexual EBM bacchanalia, with Balanceuttering some of his most transgressive lyrics: "Fuck me inreverse/Normal is perverse/Everything's backwards." This disc would beperfect were it not for a rather nagging problem with the mixing, whichseems to favor Balance's vocals and pushes much of the music into amuddy, nebulous background. Even with the technical difficulties, Live Three is an essential chronicle of one of Coil's most inspired shows.
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LIVE TWO
Coil's Moscow performance in the Fall of 2001is documented here, soon after their brief stateside visit. Like theNYC show, the Moscow performance went under the banner "ConstantShallowness Leads to Evil," a tight, energetic performance highlightingCoil's most confrontational material. This is my personal favorite ofthe four periods of Coil's live shows, simply because Coil seemed atthis stage to be perfectly in control of their audience, skillfullyheightening tension and confounding expectations, all the whilesubliminally projecting their bizarre brand of personal empowermentpropaganda onto the unwitting observers. This Moscow performance seemsto be the absolute zenith of the "Constant Shallowness" show, which iswhy the bad mix on tracks like "What Kind of Animal Are You?" is verydisappointing indeed. The officially sanctioned bootleg CD-R recordingof the NYC show actually boasts superior audio, which is surprisingconsidering Coil's usually scrupulous attention to their productionfidelity. Still, this performance is very impressive, especially thepitch-perfect rendition of Horse Rotorvator's "Blood From the Air." Thefinal, apocalyptic blowout of "Constant Shallowness Leads toEvil" begins with Balance satirically answering some vicious rumorsprinted in a Russian publication: "We've heard that some of you mayhave read that we eat human flesh. However, we only do this onreligious holidays." Coil then launch into a lengthy noise assaultspecifically formulated to exorcise you of demons and brainwash you ofall your previous learning,leaving you vulnerable for Coil's subliminal psychobabble. "God pleasefuck my mind for good!" screams a wrecked Balance, stealing a line fromCaptain Beefheart's "Making Love to a Vampire With a Monkey on MyKnee." If you manage to make it to the end of this exhausting set withyour sanity intact, you may truly grasp Coil's final motto "Persistenceis All."
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LIVE ONE
The last in the live series is a 2-CD set beautifully packaged in afoldout digipack. The two discs document the first two Coilperformances of the new millennium, focusing on their Time Machinesmaterial. It must have been terribly exciting for the audience at theRoyal Festival Hall in April of 2000 to hear the opening tones of"Everything Keeps Dissolving," this being Coil's first true liveconcert other than some sallow, abortive attempts made in the early80's. Coil no doubt practiced for months, as they show no signs ofunease in unveiling their polished live presence. Disc one originallysaw limited release as Time Machines Live only available with mail order copies of Musick to Play in the Dark 2.It's swell for this material to be widely available, as it is truly agreat concert and a flawless recording. At this early stage in Coil'sperformances, John Balance had not yet adopted the dancing, screaming,extroverted lunatic personality he was to unveil in later shows.Therefore, the three tracks that make up the London show contain nolive singing, just a series of enraptured electronic oscillations thattwist around the brain, wiping out all thought but an extreme sense ofdislocation and confusion. "Queens of the Circulating Library" utilizessamples of Thighpaulsandra's opera-singing mum Dorothy Lewis, togetherwith digital arpeggiations and sexy purrs from a wounded synthesizer."Chasms" flirts close to Tangerine Dream territory, a swirlingcirculation of warm synthesizer tones that unfold like a Russianscience fiction film. Disc two comprises Coil's terrific performance atBarcelona's Sonar festival in June of 2000. It repeats the same songsfrom disc one, but adds three new songs to the setlist, including thefourth and final permutation of "Amethyst Deceivers." Bill Breeze playsviola throughout the entrancing set, adding some beautifulneo-classical flourishes. "TheUniverse is a Haunted House," a line taken directly from Burroughs' Naked Lunch, is present in a much more nascent version than the one heard on Live Four.Unfortunately, this disc suffers from two problems. First, the audiosource used for this release was not made from the soundboard, but israther a recording by a member of the audience. While pains have beentaken to clean up the sound, the audio does suffer from the technicalproblems inherent in bootleg recordings, including annoying audiencechatter and trebly distortions. Second, although the digipack lists sixtracks, the CD only contains five tracks, the last two apparentlyhaving been accidentally merged. Still, this is a rather impressivebootleg recording, and these problems can easily be forgiven and theconcert still enjoyed. We hear Jhon Balance step to the front for thefirst time, delivering a series of blood-curdling screams on "Elves,"once again making a play for the title of the most warped vocalist inmusic today.
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If "prog-esque overblown, overlong self-indulgent wankery" sounds like a bad thing or if comparison with Tales From Topographic Oceans carries un-cool implications then this CD may not be for you. I doubt that there remain many Brainwashed readers who still subscribe to the NME's Exclusion Principle, i.e. that to like The Fall you have to revile Yes, and it is to those thus enlightened readers that I'd recommend Just Drums.
Fever Pitch
Think instead about a more important principle: there never was a truly great band with a less than excellent drummer. While many a band has achieved true greatness with ho-hum guitarists, challenged singers or uninspired keyboard players, none achieved that level with a mediocre drummer. So it's really only fair that the drummers should have a CD of their own from time to time and this is one: seventeen drum solos from masterful drummers in diverse corners of the muso-sphere. Kicking things off is Gregg Bendian, respected improviser and leader of the Mahavishnu Project, with an expansive workout through fusion topography. Even for non-drummers and people who, like myself, know absolutely nothing about drumming, it's fun to play the reminds-me-of game. Though we may not understand them, the game works because perhaps drums dominate the musical world we live in and we learn subliminally. Bendian's flamboyant, rollicking, colorful and bewilderingly complicated playing reminds me of, appropriately enough, Billy Cobham. Laura Cromwell, former God is my Co-Pilot drummer, has a short, kind-of Jon Hassell moment. Victor Delorenzo's straightforward but seriously swinging piece backs less than 100% convincing singing (presumably his own); evidence in support of that more important principle. Dylan Fusillo's contribution is a beautiful fusion of African and more western styles, initially a vertical form elaboration of a driving tonic beat it beaks away into a real but brief drum solo on that same basis. Gerry Hemingway has impressive credentials and I've enjoyed his work since way back but hadn't kept track of his more recent activity. Here we find him working with electronics and extended technique—most of it is beautiful except that the squiggly electronic sounds (mere electronics) rather annoy me. What I never liked was a jazz drum solo. These seemed to be aiming specifically for maximal confusion of the meter, often through gratuitous acceleration and deceleration. This detestable effect ruins John Hollenbeck's otherwise lovely effort as well as Payton Macdonald's. So it's surprising that I enjoy William Hooker's piece—it sounds like a jazz drum solo but has enough form, tension and energy to hold it together for fully eleven and a half minutes. I've run out of space so the last word goes to Nandor Nevai and his explosive "Nonillion, 10 to the 13th Power" that, in a mere 90 seconds, is a gem of power, anger and sonic brilliance. It has something of the seductive impact of Lightning Bolt, if you ever caught them live.
LIVE FOUR