Robert Lax/Various - Wake up. re:Lax

Robert Lax/Various Artists
Wake up. Re:Lax
Intermedium 019

The poet Robert Lax (1915-2000) is largely known for being a major influence on the Beats (Kerouac called him “one of the great original voices of our times”) possibly more than for his poems themselves which have a spareness and something of a Buddhist nature that might affect readers in a manner akin to some of Cage’s works—they’re admired conceptually but perhaps not dwelled on as deeply as they deserve. For example:

arf
arf!

(silence)

arf
arf!

(silence)

arf
arf

arf
arf!

(silence)

Or:

come

come

here

-

The first of two discs presented here is comprised of Lax’ readings of some 30 of his poems, recorded in the early 90s. He has a droll manner, the twinkle in his eyes manifesting clearly in his voice, a voice that still has a youthful ebullience despite his age at the time. Admirers of his work will find this portion alone worth the price of admission.

Apparently he’d gained enough of a respectful following to entice the artists gathered here to set several of his wry, mantra-like pieces to music. Given Lax’s tendency toward insistent repetition and the complementary bent of several participants here toward looped beats and rhythms, it’s largely a successful marriage. There are 16 pieces by seven interpreters, each presented sequentially. Tarwater (Bernd Jestram and Ronald Lippok) set “The Bomb. Scenario for Auditorium” to a rippling, percussive beat that surges along with the bomb's fall to earth only to recede upon its explosion into a surprising, lovingly strummed acoustic guitar set against ringing tones, the poet’s voice calmly reciting the horrors he sees. Sixtoo’s two short pieces position the words against thick, cloudy beats and drifting Rhodes-like bell tones while Iso 68 (Thomas le Beog and Florian Zimmer) use odd overlays like gamelan and melodica, reed organ (?) and tuned drums or low register piano and electronica rhythms to establish exotic and lush beds for amusing pieces like “Are You a Visitor?” (asked, I believe, by Lax’s dog). Next up, four poems are strung together by Loopspool into a dense, throbbing electronic mesh, here using a young woman to read the works, softly split into multiple voices, echoing off into the hiss and spatter. It’s quite effective, somewhat reminiscent of late period Golden Palominos with Nicole Blackman. Chilean Ramuntcho Matta (yes, son of that Matta) supplies some Rypdalian guitar behind the arch “Wake Up Jack” (it’s 1949) and looser, more interesting playing to support Lax’ listing of the permutations of light, dark, black and white, “Bright White”. Not surprisingly, one of the highlights of this set is created by Christof Kurzmann in his version of “One Stone”, combining a pulsating rhythm with a panoply of extraneous sounds, voice extracts, and other sonic detritus (including a wonderful, skittering series of tones that sounds like a balafon at Mach 10) that perfectly complement Lax’s intoning, “one stone, one stone, I lift, one stone, and I am thinking, one stone, one stone, as I lift…” Unfortunately, the disc concludes with two mediocre numbers by Marc Ribot (along with an uncredited alto saxophonist/bass clarinetist—maybe Ned Rothenberg?) They opt for a harsher, far more angular approach, something with roots, perhaps, in things like Zorn’s “Locus Solus” project but which seem to have little to do with Lax’s worldview. Stridency and overt angst are at a far remove from the poet's supremely contemplative and quietly humorous nature.

These last pieces aside, “Wake up. re:Lax” is a generally enjoyable collection and a reasonably fitting tribute to the poet. The second disc includes a video of Lax reading from his book, “Mogador” and the accompanying booklet provides a short, appreciative essay and some lovely photos.

~ Brian Olewnick