Peter Marsh

Binary Freakshow

[ review of: Binary Freakshow by Dr C Tebbs and Friends (CD Album) ]

Though hard drives all across the country are groaning with the outpourings of thousands of bedroom electronica wannabees, it's doubtful that much of it is deserving of an audience outside of the hallowed (fire)walls of mp3. com and the like. It seems ironic that the promise of limitless creativity offered by cheap software and hardware has resulted in hours and hours of what Bernd Friedman has termed 'Manky Midi Miserablism', but of course there are exceptions, and they don't often come more notable than 'Binary Freakshow'. Dr C. Tebbs (who I suspect may not be fully qualified) has produced an album that is by turns inventive, stupid, beautiful and deranged, in which C20 classicism, electroacoustics and jazz elements bounce off each other amid an intricate cocktail of ambient electronica and distressed garage and drum 'n' bass beatsystems. His secret weapon is that he obviously has a considerable musical ability, though his technical skill remains in service to the music, plus he's not afraid to let real instruments come and make friends with his Pentium III. Guest clarinettist Gabriel Hall provides nimble Don Byron-esque lines to the tricky, clipped cyberfusion of 'Man & Machine' and the 7/4 Garage of "Crunchy Bits', while Gideon Jukes's lithe electric bass snakes its way through 'Negation', a collage of juicy analogue-ish synthetics, shortwave, tabla and orchestral samples of almost Zornish proportions. But Dr Tebbs can be minimalist too - 'Concerto for 50 Dripping Taps' takes Stockhausen's observation that pitch is merely hugely accelerated rhythm and applies it to an unsuspecting bunch of saw tooth waveforms, with sensual yet rigorous results. Occasionally the sillier pieces are redolent of Mike Paradinas or Luke Vibert (epecially 'Arcadia for Bell Fruits Slotmachine Repair Lab', which places the usual hideous arpeggios generated by such machines over a shifting Squarepusher like drum 'n' bass matrix) but without the smugness that sometimes mars their work. Unlike Paradinas' Jake Slazenger alter ego, Dr Tebbs knows when the joke has been told and doesn't bother repeating it for 6 minutes. When garage or d'n'b elements are used, they're used with an understanding and a grudging respect for the form too - the aforementioned 'Crunchy Bits' manages to shoehorn its garage moves into its obviously inappropriate time signature without seeming forced, and the accumulated rhythmic pileups of 'Three Speed Beatbox' retain a visceral urgency despite the impossibility of actually cutting a rug to it. 'Desert Star', on the other hand, is ravishing - guest vocalist Lois unfurls a dolorous, folkish melody over a shifting backdrop of double bass, oud, electric piano, flutes and distant harps. Gorgeous. Elsewhere, two self penned Fugues reveal Dr Tebbs' classical background, while 'Music for Low Budget Soundcard' (in eight movements) is deeply odd, moving from an almost Herbie Hancockish fusion excursion to a General Midi mauling of Beethoven's 5th to cheesy reggaefied midijazz - the whole thing comes across like an elongated pisstake of the kind of music you might find on the demo CDs that accompany home keyboards. But there's maybe a certain affection for the Soundblaster cheesiness of these sounds lurking somewhere in the background. Maybe Dr Tebbs has a lucrative sideline career in writing demos for Creative Labs or Yamaha ahead of him.... But before they snap him up, make sure you snap one of these up. Highly recommended.

email charles@crtebbs.freeserve.co.uk for more information about how to get hold of the music reviewed here
Posted by Peter Marsh at 00:00, 02 Feb 2001

Retrospective

[ review of: Retrospective by Ray Russell (CD Album) ]

For anyone who spent a large proportion of their youth reading album sleevenotes, the name of Ray Russell may strike a chord (no pun intended) as a dependable and able fusion tinged session guitarist whose playing graced many an MOR 70s and 80s release (Judie Tzuke, Bryan Ferry, Phil Collins etc etc). Jason Witherspoon on the Kozmigroov list once made the observation that pretty much every mainstream fusion artist had some incendiary psychedelic whacked out masterpiece lurking (usually unissued) in their back catalogue (think George Duke, Les McCann, Bob James) and this 2 CD set bears testament to that view. Drawn mainly from early 70's recordings, these tracks (reissued by Jim O' Rourke's Moikai label) are a revelation and an important document of British jazz from an era where it seemed like anything was possible, and fusion wasn't a dirty word. Russell's guitar playing combines the fire of early John Mclaughlin and the blistering Coltrane inspired sheets of sound approach favoured by Sonny Sharrock, but with a much more feral, rock tinged edge than either; not surprising that Gil Evans was a fan. Disc one is mostly given over to a 1971 gig recorded at the ICA, originally released on RCA and features the same band as the (also recently reissued) 'Rites and Rituals' album for CBS - saxist Tony Roberts, trumpeter Harry Beckett and long time Russell collaborators Alan Rushton (drums) and bassist Daryl Runswick. Skeletal, mournful themes alternate with unaccompanied solo sections or long, multi-limbed free blowouts. Harry Beckett, one of Britjazz's unsung heroes and a perfect example of the kind of musician equally at home with bebop and free jazz, is as precise and thoughtful as ever; his long solo on 'Stained Angel Morning' is a perfectly judged gem. Roberts combines huge intervallic leaps with gutbucket overblowing yet his tenor playing retains some sort of bluesy, Ornette-ish edge on occasion, while his flute and bass clarinet excursions widen the textural palette (shades of Eric Dolphy here too). Russell is awesome; bottleneck frenzy and langurous feedback moans give way to acid raga figures, metallic avant skronk or poisonous clouds of distortion. It's Rushton that provides the impetus for Russell's best moments; their relationship echoes the Jones/Coltrane symbiosis and is particularly potent on the jawdropping duet studio take of 'Stained Angel Morning' which opens CD2. Later live sessions feature the marvellous, late lamented Gary Windo (favoured collaborator of Carla Bley and Robert Wyatt amongst others) on tenor and bass clarinet, and though these sessions are in general more reigned in than the earlier pieces, there are many fine moments to be had (particularly Brian Miller's lovely spacey synth and Rhodes excursions on 'All Week Tomorrow'). Russell's sound is more mellow here but his playing is still as unfettered as on the earlier material. A trio of pieces from 1975 flirt with more conventional fusion and blues modes but the group's personality still shines through; Beckett's flugelhorn feature 'Blue Rain' is particularly lovely. The CD ends with a spirited 1968 live rendition of 'Dragon Hill'. God knows where Moikai dredged up this unreleased material, but be glad they did. An essential reissue (plus witty and perceptive sleevenotes by Alan Licht).

Posted by Peter Marsh at 00:00, 02 Feb 2001

The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs

[ review of: The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs by John Cage (CD Album) ]

For a composer whose work embraced (and pretty much initiated) the notion of chance procedures and who famously never listened to records, it's somehow ironic that John Cage is one of the best documented 20th century composers, with new releases seeming to appear weekly. This one's a bit special however, as it features the playing of Joelle Leandre, Cage collaborator and free improvisor extraordinaire. Leandre is one of the greatest double bassists on the European scene and has worked with pretty much everyone on the circuit, combining an awesome technique with a sly sense of humour (check her superb duo album with Jon Rose, 'Les Domestiques' for the evidence). This record combines Cage pieces from the 40s and 50s with a 1984 piece, 'Ryoanji', dedicated to Leandre, plus Leandre's own 'Hommage a J...', a tape piece dedicated to Cage. 'Ryoanji' is the CD's centrepiece, a forbiddingly minimal 24 minute piece for Le Quan Ninh's single percussive hits, Leandre's piston engine arco bass drones, and contralto voice. It's sparse and difficult music, but illustrates one of Cage's own stories perfectly - he was giving a composition class and played a record of Tibetan Buddhist music to his pupils. After a good few minutes of droning, a woman stood up and shouted at Cage to take it off because she couldn't stand it anymore. Cage duly stopped the record, whereupon one of the other pupils complained that it was just getting interesting. Much the same could be said of this piece; attentive listening focusses the ears in much the same way as the minimalist electronica of, say, Ryoji Ikeda can do. In fact, it's much like having your ears syringed if you can get past the all important boredom/irritation threshold - afterwards, every sound takes on a new interest (after all, Cage was more interested in the act of listening than he was in the mechanics of 'music').

"The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs' and 'A Flower' are short pieces for vocal and percussion (originally achieved by drumming on a closed piano, but here featuring a few well placed blows on the body of the bass). The text of 'Widow' is taken from Joyce's 'Finnegan's Wake' and the piece has a folkish quality, maybe due to it's unadorned three note melody (which can be transposed by the performer), though I prefer Carla Bley's less studied reading on the Obscure release 'Voices and Instruments'. '591/2', (the title I think refers to it's duration) is a minute's worth of hyperactive scrabble through Leandre's range of arco and pizzicato sounds (her low notes are way, way low here) and is quite stunning. I've never heard any other versions of this piece, but Leandre's total mastery of her instrument's extended vocabulary would seem to stem directly from her experiences as a free improvisor, an area which Cage had no interest in as far as I'm aware. Leandre's 'Hommage a J....' is an electroacoustic piece built round a set of prepared piano loops glued together to form a drunken waltz, together with glockenspiel and alarm clock interruptions, punctuated by sibilant vocalisations and some extremely infectious sniggering. Strange and brilliant stuff.

Posted by Peter Marsh at 00:00, 02 Jan 2001