Anthony Braxton Quartet (Dortmund) 1976

For all of the amazing music, the prolific and profound Anthony Braxton has created for more than a half-century, it is hard to find any endeavor of his that was more exciting and accomplished as the quartet that lasted just a half of a year in 1976. Featuring the remarkable rhythm section of Dave Holland on bass and Barry Altschul on drums and percussion, with the leader playing his usual array of horns (alto, contrabass, and sopranino saxes, and Eb, contrabass and standard clarinet), the additional element that powered this ensemble was the introduction of the amazing George Lewis on trombone.

This Hat Hut release is from the inaugural Dortmund Jazz Festival held in Germany on Halloween and the group, which disbanded after a show in Berlin several days later, plays at a peak of precision, passion (not something usually associated with Braxton by critics), power and, fun (also not highlighted in reviews).  It helps that the group plays three versions of Composition 40, one of the most common pieces that Braxton played, and that the opener with version F is, through a Holland solo, transitioned to Composition 23J, another oft-performed work. The combined pieces take us on a stunning 26-minute journey, with a mind-blowing solo by Braxton that generates a burst of enthusisastic applause, with Lewis offering his own masterful solo after that!

Composition 40 (O) follows with some remarkable sounds, like birdcalls from Altschul and a panoply of "honks, grunts, quacks and howls" from Lewis and Braxton, "with Dave Holland tight on their tails," as expressed by Graham Lock in his thorough and enormously helpful notes.  Then there is Composition 6(C) which Braxton indicated "was composed to be a circus march type of music," though by the Dortmund concert "has provided an ideal vehicle for 'collage' improvisation."  This, Lock explains, means "a parade-ground melee" with the horns tossing off "marching riffs in glorious profusion."  Finally, there is Composition 40(B) which, Braxton observed, "was composed with respect to the implications" of such jazz giants as Fletcher Henderson, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker, Lennie Tristano, Charles Mingus, Ornette Coleman and Eric Dolphy— but with Braxton's unique perspective.

It must be said that, complicated as Braxton's concepts can be, Lock does as a good a job as can be expected at explaining what's behind this whirlwind's approaches.  As complex as Braxton's work is, and it can be daunting, suspending preconceptions of what jazz is supposed to be, much less other forms of music, and just letting him and his compatriots take you on their wild and wonderful journey can be highly rewarding.

Jean Sibelius: Kullervo

Jean (Johan) Sibelius (1865-1957) was born in Finland from a family, whose language and culture were, however, Swedish, while his country was an autonomous part of the Russian empire, and he preferred the French version of his birth name.  Yet, his exposure to Finnish literature including epic Kalevala led him to be acclaimed as a nationalist composer, known for such works as Finlandia, the Karelia, and his first major success Kullervo, a symphonic tone-poem for orchestra, vocal soloists and choir, based on an episode from the Kalevala.  

Between the end of the 19th century and the mid-1920s, Sibelius wrote his Finlandia, a symphonic poem called Tapiola, music for Shakespeare's The Tempest, and a violin concerto, but most of his energies went toward seven symphonies and these, along with The Tempest suite and Kullervo, were collated into one of the hard-to-find "White Box" sets issued by the Naxos label.

Kullervo is a remarkable work, heavily influenced by the Third Symphony of another favorite Anton Brückner and by Richard Wagner's massive mythological works.  Premiering in Helsinki in April 1892, the piece was greeted rapturously, with one reviewer gusing "he brings the most beautiful pearls of our national epic before our eyes and caresses our ears with Finnish strains that we immediately identify as our own, even though we have never heard them before."  As Smetana and Dvorak had done with Czech nationalist works, Sibelius's Kullervo is a testament to the traditions and character of the Finnish people and is grand, majestic, emotive and powerful, but he did not allow performances after a few years because he thought it would be seen by those outside the country as too Finnish.  Not until after this death, in 1958, was it performed publicly again.

In fact, after World War I, the composer's output slowed considerably and he even destroyed his eighth symphony, finished in 1929.  For almost three decades prior to his passing, he produced no music and, while still admired in England and the U.S., he was largely left out of the repertoire of orchestras in continental Europe.  Yet, the Naxos set is full of great symphonic music, including the striking Kullervo.

Music of the Shi People: Songs Accompanied by Likembe

Ever since an early introduction to "world music" came through the mail order in 1990 of a sampler CD from the JVC World Sounds series, it has been great when the opportunity to pick up a disc from this hard-to-find series has presented itself.  This recording in what was then known as Zaire and now the Democratic Republic of the Congo is a fascinating example of music at its most fundamental level and came about apparently by accident.

Tsutomu Oohashi was traveling in summer 1983 to the Ituri forest of that nation to record the remarkable music of the Mbuti pygmies, but, when he got to Lwiro and went to the Institut de Recherche Scientifique, he came across a quartet of mjisicians who played the likembe, or thumb piano, percussion instruments, and sang.  In his liners, he wrote that "I was astonished at the resemblance of their music to the authentic blues style practised in the United States between the 1920s and the 1950s . . . this was truly the world of the blues" and that the only difference was the use of the likembe as opposed to the guitar.  Oohashi claimed "I felt I had discovered the original source of the blues."

Others suggest that American blues was connected to west Africa and the griots singing and playing the kora and in the work of musicians of the vast savanna regions of the continent.  Oohashi suggests that "the great racial diversity of the peoples of Africa and their complex interrelationships" created a complex cultural mix and that the Shi people of Lwiro were "in the heart of the African continent" and their music reflected elements from many parts of it.  He was particularly taken with the distinctive vocal qualities of Rhulinobo Elige, who sang "with exquisite refinement" and Joker Shamavu "whose voice rings out like a wind across the savanna."

For this listener, enjoying the music of this quartet is based on its own terms, though any connection to the blues is interesting enough to ponder, as sometimes the most powerful performances are those at an elemental level: vocals, a predominant instrument, and supplementary and complementary percussion.  The Music of the Shi People is an immersive experience in central African sounds and it does feel like the music comes from ancient origins.

Cabaret Voltaire: Shadow of Fear

 As an admirer of this group for thirty-five years, I pre-ordered this album, the first under the name in over a quarter-century, from the great Mute Records as soon as it was announced last summer and received it just before Thanksgiving.  I wanted time to give the album several listens before highlighting it here, but Shadow of Fear has been a constant listen, especially in the last month or so.  Whatever qualms some fans have had about this being a Richard H. Kirk solo vehicle, his point that the other members, Christopher Watson and Stephen Mallinder, chose to leave and the fact that he has carefully, and very effectively, curated the band's output for many years is all that needs to be said.

As for this record, with its reliance on old equipment after a computer crash, it is both redolent of a variety of hallmarks of CV from the past (the drum machine from "Nag, Nag, Nag," or certain keyboard touches and "electro" drums from the mid-Eighties, and electronic sounds from the first half the following decade, much less the ominous voice samples tuned lower for even more of a sense of dread and mystery.)  Yet, as Kirk was clear to say in interviews, this is also forward-looking in that is new and very strong material.

Favorites here include "The Power (Of Their Knowledge)," "Night of the Jackal," and "Universal Energy," though all the pieces are excellent in their own way and the sequencing is such that the album moves smoothly from one track to the next and the variety keeps the attention locked in.  There's been a lot of comment about how the recording is apt and fitting for our COVID-19 pandemic environment, though Kirk pointed out that most of the work was done well before the outbreak and that his tendencies toward paranoiac musical musings seem more timely.

In any case, Shadow of Fear is a great album and another monument to Kirk's admirable and relentless focus on forging ahead and not dwelling too much on the past, which acknowledging antecedents in Cabaret Voltaire's long history.  He has just released a three-track EP, Shadow of Funk, and announced a pair of upcoming drone projects, Dekadrone, out on 26 March, and BN9Drone, released on 26 April and both available by pre-order now.  So, we'll see how the obviously inspired Kirk continues the retooled CV project!

Tim Berne's Bloodcount: Unwound

In his mid-60s, Tim Berne, always a prolific producer of incredible experimental jazz, dating back some four decades, decided to ramp up his releases in 2020, issuing several recordings during the pandemic.  Dedicated to his music and uncompromising in his vision, Berne has been a remarkable and fascinating figure, working with all kinds of ensembles and in small duo and trio settings, churning out just amazing music.

One of his more impressive projects is Bloodcount, in which the alto and baritone sax master is joined by Chris Speed on tenor sax and clarinet, bassist Michael Formanek and drummer Jim Black.  This three-disc set, released by Berne's DIY Screwgun label, of live recordings in spring 1996 from Berlin and Ann Arbor, Michigan allows for Berne's ideas to be stretched out, more fully developed and, ultimately, richer because of the incredible interplay and brilliant solo work found throughout.

The shortest track here, "Loose Ends" is thirteen minutes and "What Are the Odds?" is well over forty minutes, but all of these pieces have their individual segments in which group interaction, solos, points of intensity and then of introspection are so well played and projected that the music never drags.  The quieter (if often foreboding) passages provide a break and contrast from the powerful sections and Berne's uniquely angular approach to composition and group dynamics always guarantee suprises and interesting twists and turns.

Berne and Speed are compelling in their harmonization and their soloing, during which the other horn player often riffs in interesting ways.  Black is a dynamic present behind the kit, playing thunderous and often highly complex solos, while always beautifully supporting the others.  Formanek is perhaps the glue that holds all this together with his amazing and supple presence and really interesting solos.  Berne has always been masterful in juxtaposing power and ambience and making the most of group interplay and Bloodcount and this set represent the best of how this is manifested live.