Three from Quodlibet + one more

Apologies in advance for the grouping but I have too many semi-related things in hand not to do so. A passel of Fargone discs will be up next.

Dual - Pyroclastics
Quodlibet
QLCDR01

Severe noise/thrash from the duo of Ed Chang (electronics) and Doug Theriault (guitar), sixteen tracks in 28 minutes. Chang, among other things, fills a percussive role, cycling samples from who-knows-where in overlaid and chaotic patterns. The briefer cuts, and there are several less than a minute, inevitably remind me at least a little bit of those sub-15 second pieces Zorn included on the first Naked City disc, though these are far less overtly structured. They’re intense and assaultive but after the initial barrage, I’m not sure what’s left to ponder. Theriault’s guitar, in pieces like the relatively lengthy “My Ashes, Your Eyes”, takes on connotations of rapturous metal solos, flagellating through the space in an orgasmic frenzy. There’s something to be said for that when delivered with such abandon, I suppose, though I also feel a contrary impulse, one that counsels, “Rein it in a bit, guys”. It’s interesting how, despite any real regular rhythms, vocals, etc. there’s a decidedly rock-like feel to this session, more so than a purely noise/improv sensation, though some of the more disjointed cuts almost get there. There’s even a slight tinge of dub in a piece like “Tremor, Out of Space”. Not a bad outing if you’re so inclined and over its course, the out and out willingness to consistently nail balls to the wall becomes at least a bit beguiling. There’s none of the adolescent obnoxiousness that mars (for this listener) much other work in this area and on the final track, one titled (archly?) “Pastiche”, there are occasional hints of wider sonic concerns.

Ed Chang & Han Degc
Nois und Stringe
Quodlibet
(no cat#, Series Improv #8)

Chang resurfaces in this duo with classical guitarist Han Degc, here wielding rougher-edged devices, presumably including his homemade “noise machine”. As Degc’s playing is entirely acoustic as well as indirectly referencing classical attacks and techniques, a certain tension is created and maintained between him and the extremely brutal, electric noise-storm generated by Chang. But that explosion vs. furious strumming scenario doesn’t support one’s interest for very long and the six tracks presented here don’t offer much in the way of varied approach. The monochrome nature of the pieces, any of which might have worked perfectly well as one out of several, palls when iterated one after another. The final cut, a dedication to the late Hugh Davies, does allow a bit more light and nuance into the music, Chang restraining himself from filling every available space with noise and Degc recalling Bailey, but it’s too little too late for this listener.

Motoko Shimizu
Attack of the 5-Foot Woman
Quodlibet
(no cat#, Series Improv #11)

With such an excellent album title, I was hoping for more. Motoko Shimizu, the 5-foot woman doing the attacking, is captured in a 28-minute performance, deploying a range of small instruments, largely in the toy and percussion area, augmented with some flute work and voice. It’s in a kind of post-Shelley Hirsch territory, especially the vocals that, for this listener, emerge as one of the problematic points. It begins encouragingly enough, in a ritualistic mode with soft, steady drumbeats and murmured vocalizations but, as is the case throughout, no mood is maintained for very long and things swiftly disintegrate into the sort of random histrionics that vocalist/performance artists like Hirsch are known for. I’m not a huge fan of that approach at all, finding the sense of naiveté sought in such music very difficult to attain. The growls, shrieks, purrs, etc. get far too melodramatic for comfort; we’re not talking Ami Yoshida here. The music box coda, the charming old children’s song, “Grandfather’s Clock”, is effective and comforting but not worth the wait.

Marshall Allen/Jeffrey Hayden Shurdut/Ed Chang/Motoko Shimizu/Danny Ray Thompson
Live at the University of Pennsylvania
No Labels

Many of the musicians in this small niche of the contemporary NYC improv scene seem to have one foot in the noise scene represented by the No Fun crowd and one in the post-free jazz ethos. The performance captured here, from earlier this year, is one of the more successful such combinatory ventures I’ve encountered. It’s interesting that right from the start, Allen (82 years young) is able to evoke the atmosphere of Sun Ra; makes one wonder if I’d been underestimating how hugely vital he had been to that band’s sound. His alto, especially in this fairly noisy context, quickly calls to mind classics like “Black Myth” (originally the BASF LP “It’s After the End of the World”), with Shurdut’s guitar and Chang’s noise machine chipping in to help summon forth images of Ra’s eruptive keyboards. Unlike some of the other offerings above, this concert ebbs and flows naturally over its 48 minutes, subsiding into considered areas of calm amidst the raucous free-for-alls. Shimizu is less frenetic than on her solo disc (though June Tyson needn’t worry she’ll be forgotten) and Danny Ray Thompson’s appearance on flute toward the end is a welcome surprise. It’s a good disc, one that provides a vibrant picture of this particular musical nexus.

quodlibet