"Blue" Gene Tyranny - Out of the Blue

Unseen Worlds
UW01

Unseen Worlds, operating out of Austin, is taking upon itself the task of reissuing little known recordings, so far from the 70s, that have gotten lost in the shuffle and, arguably, shouldn’t have been.

Their first is “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s “Out of the Blue”, originally released on Lovely Music Ltd. in 1977. Though familiar with his keyboard work from around that time while in the service of other groups and while I’ve since heard a number of his solo projects, the music here still came as something of a surprise insofar as its pop-rock aspect. These are pop songs, no doubt about it. Well, I’ll make a partial exception for the last piece, but we’ll get to that.

“Next Time Might Be Your Time” is a gentle, country-ish lilt, slide guitars and Tyranny’s dreamy Fender Rhodes work swirling around Patrice Manget’s earnest vocals. The lyrics, unlike those on the other two songs bearing words, are relatively straight and un-ironic, a love note of sorts: “Dear Companion/We could be in Arizona or France/What will the world be like when we see each other/Free of all circumstance?” It’s far sweeter than, say the roughly contemporary music of the Love of Life Orchestra, lacking any sardonic edge. The backing reed section, including a bassoon, launches into a surprising, lightly funky little riff just before the close bringing to mind the jaunty work of groups like the Microscopic Septet. The sole instrumental number, “for David K.”, ensues, a tight jazz-rock workout, something that I might have attributed to Zappa in a blindfold test. There’s a bit more genuine funk here though still decidedly on the paler side of things; think Lenny Pickett. Still, it chugs along good-naturedly, the leader’s spacey synth emitting candy-striped spirals that would make Lonnie Liston Smith blush, Peter Gordon (I believe) taking a nice, harder edged sax solo near the end.

“Leading a Double Life” is something of a wild card here and my favorite all around track. After a very pretty keyboard introduction, it segues into quasi-gospel mode, Tyranny’s synth imitating a harmonium and two sopranos warbling an exceedingly odd story that strikes me as having its roots in Robert Ashley (it anachronistically also echoes Laurie Anderson, another whose Ashley debts are huge):

Oh boy, sometimes it seems like it takes forever
And then with your friends
It takes no effort at all
Oh it could be a past hurt
Attachment illusion
That makes distance between me
Leading a double life.

This is, as well, the one cut where Tyranny’s piano is foregrounded. He’s an amazingly melodic and lush player and, if I had to carp, it’d be to say that I wish there was more of it here.

The entirely of Side Two on the LP was taken up by the 26-minute epic, “A Letter from Home”. This is the most Ashley-ized piece on the recording, the lyrics derived from a missive, conversationally rendered, its hippie-ish, proto-New Age ruminations more quaintly charming than aggravating (if one is in a generous frame of mind), interspersed with singing from those two sopranos once again, the instrumentals awash with synth and reeds. Does it meander? Well, yes, but that fits with the reminiscent character of the work, the dreamy reflectiveness, train whistles hooting, rural field recordings, strummed acoustic guitar. It’s the personal made emblematic of a certain place in time; if you’re of a given age, chances are it rings at least somewhat true.

Not for everyone, to be sure, but a very interesting, often very moving set of tunes.

Unseen Worlds