Peter Brötzmann/Die Like a Dog Quartet: Little Birds Have Fast Hearts, Nos 1-2

Though it appears neither was aware of the other's work at the time, the parallels between the "free jazz" saxophonists American Albert Ayler and German Peter Brötzmann, are striking.  Both gloried in the sheer joy of expression in ecstatic sound when they emerged in the mid-1960s as "free jazz" exploded.  Not that their music sounded exactly the same and Ayler definitely had a heavily spiritual motivation that Brötzmann did not seem to have, but the unbridled energy that blared from their instruments definitely had some sort of kinship in the exploration of pure sound.

Ayler blazed trails and infuriated purists during his brief, but bracing peak blasts of powerful live and studio recordings from 1964 to 1967 before ill-advised attempts to reach a more popular audience through albums on Impulse Records failed badly.  There was a late attempt to regain his footing with some recorded live performances in Europe in summer 1970.  Then, in November, the great saxophonist disappeared after an argument with his girlfriend and his body was found floating in the East River near a pier in Brooklyn.  His drowning death remains a mystery and adds to the legend of the man called "Little Bird," in homage to his skills and comparisons to Charlie Parker.

Brötzmann, when he learned of Ayler's music became a devoted fan, and nearly thirty years after Ayler's death, formed a quartet called Die Like a Dog, an apparent reference to Ayler's passing.  A series of performances in November 1997 at a festival in Berlin yielded two volumes of stunning improvised music released first by FMP (Free Music Productions) and then by Jazzwerkstatt in a Die Like a Dog box set as Little Birds Have Fast Hearts, an encomium to Ayler.

From his ragged, wild and utterly intense early recordings like Machine Gun, For Adolphe Sax, and Nipples, among others, Brötzmann's career is still defined by his refusal to record much in the studio and his preference for the total spontaneity and freedom of live performance, though some of that sheer power has morphed into some reflective and introspective music.

Little Birds Have Fast Hearts has plenty of wild, careening and bracing moments over its 126 minutes in six parts, but there are also lots of moments where the music slows and thoughtful passages break up the intensity.  Fortunately, Brötzmann assembled an ensemble that could provide him the sensitive and near-telepathic accompaniment that make these recording so spectacular.

Toshinori Kondo is a perfect complement and foil, being known for his electronic treatments of his trimpet as well as his medium and slower tempo ruminations on this most emotive of wind instruments.  Kondo, a frequent collaborator like Brötzmann of Bill Laswell, makes the most of his style here, tempering the intensity of Brötamann's tenor, clairnet, and taogato with a consistent flow of bubbling and moderated energy.

The rhythm section is vital, because bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake, know how to hold down the bottom and yet work fluidly and with lightning quick reactions to the playing of the lead horns.  Their superb accompaniment never seeks to take the forefront, but keeps everything together perfectly, so that Brötzmann and Kondo can give flight to their fancies.  This makes Little Birds Have Fast Hearts a classic of free improvisation and worth repeated listenings, guaranteed to reveal more depth, nuance and excitement each time.

Iannis Xenakis: Persepolis + Remixes Edition 1

The context for Persepolis is, by any standard, strange, but fascinating.  The Shah of Iran, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, decided, in 1971, to celebrate the 2,500th anniversary of the founding of Persia by Cyrus the Great by holding an event that also was intended to justify the Shah's place in Persian history, though eight years later he was deposed by a conservative religious revolution.

As part of the festivities, the Shah commissioned composer Iannis Xenakis to create a piece of music and the result is the astounding Persepolis, named for the city built by Cyrus and the ruins of which are in the deserts of the south part of the country.  As a symbol of the ancient power and might of the Persian Empire, Persepolis became the basis for an extraordinary piece of music as extreme sound that seems totally alien to that society and for that matter most modern ears!

This listener finds the nearly hour-long work on eight-channel tape, with this 2002 version on Asphodel Records based on the original tapes with consultation of Xenakis, to be compelling as a gradual build-up of sound that may not conjure up anything specific about ancient Persia or Persepolis.  There is a haunting and desolate feel that does not remotely sound celebratory.

Xenakis, however, latched on to a crucial concept in Zoroastrianism, the religion of the ancient Persians, involving the binary conflict of darkness and light.  The piece, blared through nearly 60 loudspeakers, also emphasized light, through torches and bonfires (ancient light) and lasers and bright electrical light (modern forms).  It is hard to imagine that attendees were anything but stunned and confused by the spectacle.

The composer said that Persepolis was reflective of "history's noises" and the mechanical sounds, high-pitched percussion sounding like dragged objects, echoed hisses and howls seem to indicate a primeval passage through the turmoil of history.  It is disconcerting, but also hypnotic when concentrated attention is placed, especially in the last ten minutes, which is incredibly intense.

A second disc of remixes by electronic artists from Japan, Spain, Poland, Germany and the United States are varied and often bear little over resemblance to Xenakis' piece, but, as is often the case, take basic inspiration as a means to express general affinity and kinship about the nature of extreme sound.

To this listener, hearing Persepolis is somewhat akin to hearing Lou Reed's confounding, but remarkable, Metal Machine Music, including its stunning notated reproduction by Zeitkratzer.  What could seem like a joke or complete self-indulgence takes on an aura of inspired explorations of the outer limits of music, espcially considering the strange relationship of Xenakis, a modernist, avant- garde musical revolutionary and the autocratic Shah not long removed from an ignominious end.

Safarini In Transit: Music of African Immigrants

Here is another stellar Smithsonian Folkways release, issued in 2000 and presenting the vibrant music of African immigrants who'd settled in Seattle and Portland and maintained their musical traditions while living in a new society worlds away from their homelands.

The music here is uniformly entertaining and a lot of fun to listen to, with some performers having recorded frequently, like Obo Addy, and others appearing on an album for the first time, but they are all excellent in presenting their diverse contributions.  Addy is the best-known, having released a number of albums on his own and appearing on the Kronos Quartet's Pieces of Africa.

Lora Chiorah-Dye, Kofi Anang, Frank Ulwenya, Wawali Bonane and Yoka Nzenze are among the featured artists and they represent the musical traditions of such disparate parts of the African continent as Zimbabwe, Ghana, Kenya and the Congo.  There is a great blending here of traditional instruments, rhythms and vocalizing with Western instrumentation, like drum kits, guitar, bass and horns, showing the fusion of music and instruments at its best.

Also very useful (and a main reason why CDs are worth having) are the liner notes, featuring short essays by Diana N'Diaye on African immigrants in America and Jon Kertzer on African musicians in the Pacific Northwest.  These are interesting and informative, along with the detailed discussion of the pieces and the performers that follows.

It is also significant that this recording was put together in collaboration with strong community organizations in Seattle, including Rakumi Arts International, which promotes education about Africa broadly including music, and Jack Straw Productions, an audio arts center founded in the early 1960s and its Artist Support Program was key to the development of Safarini.

Wire: Change Becomes Us

Having recently read Wilson Neate's very detailed biography of Wire, one of the main themes of the book was the struggle between creating experimental art music and also having enough pop sensibilities to sell some records and keep the project viable.  The book makes clear that the push-and-pull was largely between Bruce Gilbert, who was dedicated completely to the former, and Colin Newman, who liked to experiment (especially on his solo albums) but also pushed to have enough accessibility to make sure the band could survive in the marketplace.

The 2004 album Send, a bracing, remarkable record that seems to strike a balance and which was, according to the book, Newman and Gilbert working closely together to reconcile their varying tendencies, proved to be the end of the band's original lineup.  Gilbert left soon after and has not been particularly active on recordings, though he has worked on other projects more to his liking.

A previous owner of the disc put a sticker that could not be removed on the front cover, which is why only this much is shown!

As for Wire, they kept on, working with other guitarists before having Matthew Simms, a much younger musician, join the band as an official member.  Neate's book points out that the group has become much more of what Newman had always intended and, whatever the success of that might be, Wire very much remains an active and intriguing band.  Not as experimental as it once was, but for gents of a certain age and given how few bands of the late Seventies are still making original and viable music, the group consistently delivers great music. 

In 2013, Wire put out Change Becomes Us, in which the quartet revisited and retooled a group of songs from more than thirty years prior, many of which were to be on an album following their first trio of classics: Pink Flag, Chairs Missing, and 154.  The band imploded before that record could be made and the strange, though fascinating, Document and Eyewitness, featured live "performance art" renditions of many of these tunes, while others appeared in various iterations elsewhere.

So, as a consolation prize . . .

Change Becomes Us is an intriguing project, taking songs that in most cases successfully blend accessbility with experimentation and presenting them in the "modern" Wire format, honed since Gilbert's departure.  Robert Grey's steady precision continues to be essential, Graham Lewis' bass also anchors the tunes with fluidity and solidity and his lyrics are always interesting and arresting and Simms helps flesh out the sound in understated, but important, ways.

For those of us who only got the barest of glimpses into the possibility of what Document and Eyewitness and other sources hinted at, Change Becomes Us is a realization that shows that the ideas were largely sound and that the recent development of the band provides a maturity and craftsmanship that shows that Wire has so much to offer more than four decades after it first made a splash in the punk era.

Henry Threadgill Zooid: In for a Penny, In for a Pound

It was great to see a few years back the great composer and multi-instrumentalist Henry Threadgill receive the Pulitzer Prize in music for the double-disc In for a Penny, In for a Pound, released on Liberty Ellman's Pi Records, an honor very rarely bestowed on a jazz musician.

Ever since I walked into a record store (remember those?) just over twenty-five years ago and heard the amazing Too Much Sugar for a Dime and bought the store's playing copy because they didn't have any in stock, I've been a great admirer of this remarkable creative force.

Threadgill's concept for Zooid can be discerned in this dictionary definition of that term: any organic body or cell capable of spontaneous movement and of an existence more or less apart from or independent of the parent organism. So this looks to mean that spontaneous movement translates into improvisation and elements of an ensemble, soloists, rhythm section, etc. can operate "more or less apart" while staying within the group during a performance.

As he puts it in his notes, the album was conceived as "a stream of phases" for one long "epic" piece where the group "could revisit and find a new perspective and arrangement with each performance."  Moreover, the each of the four pieces in quintets "focuses on a different instrument," though a listener would take in all of the pieces "to get the complete picture of any one instrument in the mix."

What's remarkable is how the ensemble works organically, while allowing for free expression within the long work and its component parts.  The mix of winds through the work of Threadgill's alto sax and flutes and José Davila's tuba (in lieu of bass) and trombone are complemented by the strings in Christopher Hoffman's violoncello and Ellman's guitar.  Keeping everything moving along is Elliot Humberto Kavee's drums and percussion.

It can't be said that In for a Penny, In for a Pound, being a Pulitzer Prize-winning album, is better than any other Threadgill work, but it is a fantastic excursion into how music can be structured and played with both exquisite care for the arrangement of instruments, component groups and parts, and the development of sound structures that are both challenging and, in their own way, accessible with open ears and minds.

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No. 5

What a remarkable story with Anton Bruckner, who may be one of the best classical composers you've never heard of.  Bruckner (1824-1896) wrote eight symphonies and an unfinished one that are some of the most powerful, creative of the genre, massive works that, like those of Mahler and the operatic works of Bruckner's idol, Wagner, were the epitome of the monumental orchestral piece.

Bruckner came from northern Austria and, when he went to Vienna, the epicenter of so-called "serious music," he was ridiculed for his country appearance and manners.  Moreover, the gentle and sensitive composer was convinced by friends that he needed to be more like Wagner and urged him to revise his works to the detriment of the originals.

This was especially true for the first four of his symphonies, though Georg Tintner, the conductor who recorded all the symphonies with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra for Naxos, observed that, with the fourth, the revisions helped, whereas, with the first, these degraded the original, which was much superior. 

In his informative liner notes, Tintner observes that "the Fifth Symphony, the most intellectual of all Bruckner's works, is furthest removed from the seductive world of Wagner's harmony and orchestration."  The conductor also wonders why this and the Sixth Symphony were not subjected to endless revisions as was true for the others.  Yet, when it finally premiered just before Bruckner's death and nearly twenty years after it was composed, it was in a "discredited, reorchestrated and cut version."

Tintner's mission with his recording of all the Bruckner symphonies was to present them, as much as possible, as the composer intended.  This untutored ear takes in the very soft openings to some of the movements, such as the first, and then either sudden dramatic passages or build-ups to great intensity and passion, with powerful dynamics driving the music to heights that are among the finest symphonic statements encountered (albeit with limited knowledge).  Tintner does suggest that the phenomenal finale "is certainly one of the greatest" in the "symphonic literature."

These massive, intense symphonic works can go on for lengthy periods—this one stretching over 75 minutes—so they take a level of concentration and endurance from a listener and this one needs to be in the right mood to take these (including works like those of Mahler and Wagner) on, but they can be highly rewarding experiences.  Bruckner's Fifth, with some of the best known of his majestic melodies, delivers when that mood is there.