The name of the brilliant Australian composer and multi-instrumentalist Oren Ambarchi is maybe the better known name of this trio, having been one of the most incontinent musician in the last 20 years by means of an incredible number of collaborations - the most famous ones are maybe those with John Zorn, Phil Niblock, Sunn O))), Evan Parker, Jim O'Rourke, Keiji Haino, Z'EV, Otomo Yoshihide and Richard Pinhas - and solo works, but it could be a matter of statistics as the Italian virtuosos that grouped together Oren have a likewise enviable musical path. Electric bass player Massimo Pupillo was one of the founding member of jazz-core trio ZU and could brag about excellent collaborations such as the ones with Mats Gustafsson, Paul Nilssen-Love, Lasse Marhaug and both Brötzmann (father Peter and son Caspar), while Stefano Pilia worked on many awesome sound installation after a strong activism in the Italian punk and rock more or less underground area and grouping together two other big names of the contemporary scene like David Grubbs and Andrea Belfi. I could have been influenced by the inspiring cover artwork that Sara D'Uva made for the silk-screened sleeve of this release, but their guitar-driven blend in between progressive, avant-garde, post-rock and drone sound to me as a possible soundtrack for this sort of Kali Yuga that mankind is currently experiencing at the mercy of the numbing power of media and technology. A plenty of whirling emotions and thoughts are going to run over the 33 minutes lasting suite from the very first sonic slices of the first titled "Burn" - whose preface sounds like the one of a sci-fi movie - to the rising shimmering explosions of the last minutes of "Shine". Have a check.
This 29-minute, 9-track album is Aidan Casserly's third album release of 2016 and we're barely halfway through the year. Aidan wears his heart on his sleeve and this is a brief musical journey through both sadness and optimism, and as the prolific speed of his output might suggest, there's a raw, immediate, and in some places almost improvised feel to it.
It's predominantly works for solo piano, or solo piano with subtle orchestral accompaniment. There are some powerful melodies and heartfelt performances in there, that wouldn't seem at all out of place in a film score- mostly accompanying the end-of-Act-2 scenarios when the hero begins to worry that all is lost and that no rescue is possible. Some of the orchestration is impressively arranged, though on a couple of tracks, such as "Bullet Valentine", the extent to which synths can sound like genuine full live orchestras is just slightly over-stepped.
"Echoes Backward" is the first of two songs on the album, a very brief piano-and-voice number with an unusual melody which at some points sounds like it could potentially have been recorded backwards. The other vocal track is the album closer "My Father Sleeps", deeply raw and sorrowful in its lyrics yet moderately restrained in the musical arrangement, and once you reach it, you suddenly feel like the entire album has been gradually working towards this point, like this was the story all along. The pathos is strong and well earned.
Of the instrumentals, "Walking To Drift" stands out as a highlight, with its angry synthetic opening is a rare flourish of anger in an otherwise melancholic collection. "Eye Of Horus" with its broad ethnic feel and almost jazzy flute playing is worth a listen too, and could perhaps have spent longer with the flute and less with the piano.
This is a short but powerful bit of emotional self-expression from an artist who's far away from the synthpop home turf on which I first heard him. The only thing I don't like about it would be the bold artwork and faintly naff title "Music X", that seems over-simplistic, over-modern, and somehow at odds with the nuanced music.
Despite the substantial lack of stylistic and conceptual uniformity, this collection of b-sides and unreleased stuff - recorded between 2012 and 2015 - by Oiseaux-Tempête, the brainchild of French musicians Frédéric D. Oberland and Stéphane Pigneul crystallises significant collaborative outputs in the development of their sound. The opening 10 minutes of the gently morphed ambient suite "Eclipse & Scirocco" manages to evoke the matching of ideas of its title: occasional distortions of delicate layers, which sound like sedimenting layers of vapor fading the hallucinations within the fading lights of twilight, bright melodies getting dimmer and dimmer in the act of entangling the listener till the rising of Christine Ott's Ondes Martenot voice. The obscure and bluesy Americana-like guitar phrasing on the following "Quai De L'Exil" seems to tighten the stronghold and to wither at the same time until these two processes find their highest peak at the end of the track. The sound of the same dim guitar slips away from the worrying echoes of riots and urban battles like a silent mist, an amplifier of the thought of "No Go(l)d No Master", a transliteration of the well-known anarchist slogan "No God No Master", tangling the political theme they explored in their recent album "ÜTOPIYA?". The bluesy declension of post-rock evokes bitter sips of dust and whiskey in "Black As Midnight On A Moonless Night", the track that precedes "The Strangest Creature On Earth", one of the most touching moment of the album - particularly after the recent sad news from Istambul -, named after a poem by Turkish poet N'zm Hikmet Ran, interpreted by former The Ex frontman and singer GW Sok. Another hook to recent facts occurred in Paris cut the grinding guitar, bass and drum lines of the final "Nec Mergitur", where Oiseaux-Tempête's music seems to summarize the first part of Paris coat of arms "Fluctuat Nec Mergiter", meaning "Tossed But Not Sunk". Very good collection of unreleased tweets of rising fury...
This release by Portuguese trio Bande à Part - I'm not sure if they named their trio after the well-known movie by Jean-Luc Godard, one of the milestones of Nouvelle Vague including the famous dance scene by Anna Karina over Michel Legrand's music - is another relatively old entry from the pile of records by Ernesto Rodrigues' imprint Creative Sources that deserves attention. The most interesting aspect of their sessions is the total lack of a real leading instrument as well as an absolute simplicity: a simple melodic or sometimes just tonal phrase is the sparkling element of each session, it defines a sort of emotional framework that sounds like a rickety ladder joining two contrasting moods, the other instruments and wisely grasped resounding objects and percussive elements by Carlos Godinho acts like a light make-up. The more lengthy suite, the elegant central piece "Chapa 3" (Chapa is Portuguese for "plate", not slang Spanish for...well, many of you should guess) shows how they can gradually interchange rules (pay attention to the interesting interaction between Joana Guerra's cello and Ricardo' Ribeiro's soprano and bass clarinets) in the same piece, a sort of bipolar attraction where they play on harmonies like they got stuck a rubber band, which got continuously expanded and contracted. The percussions as mentioned earlier and objects by Godinho mainly sound like enzymes of this interactions, but there are tracks ("Chapa 2" and "Chapa 4") where their eruptions become prominent. Another highlight is the fuzzy final track "Chapa 5", sounding like an entirely drunk version of some stuff by King Curtis or Lalo Schifrin. Amazing stuff.
The first question I asked myself when I received this record was quite obviously related to those unidentified tools on the cover artwork. What are thy? A full torture equipment of mad dentist? Primitive fireplace pokers? Mysterious tools for the cleaning of furnaces? Whatever they are, they supposedly landed on the table of the Poznan-based musicologist, sociologist and experimental drummer Adam Gobiewski, who wisely used them to forge one of the most extraordinary sets of really experimental percussive tracks that recently titillated my eardrums. Even though listeners, who cannot really understand this extreme experiments, could tag "Pool North" as the artifact of a sadistic sound artist, this output by Adam, which can not be considered a rhythmical exercise at all, is the exploration of a huge pack of remarkable percussive effects that quickly reaches the threshold of pure disturbances. In the seven tracks of the album, Adam melts over-amplified noises, somehow cacophonous drones, violent scrapes and other bizarre resounding strategies to squeeze intense listen experiences, that unavoidably stimulates the imagination. You could imagine the crazy attempt to hybridize a snare drum, a triangle, a trumpet, a doorbell and who knows what else on the clashing "Decay" or you could experience what a woodworm could feel when his humble abode got turned into toothpicks on the ironically titled track "Ellington Tradition" or you could even think that a hellish monster looking like an elephant seal is trying to enter in your house by forcing an old door and its rusty hinges, while listening to the scary "Manner and Timbre". Some ears could bleed, but it'll be worth.