Cheb Khaled & Safy Boutella ‎- 'Kutché' (Zone/EMI)

I don't know much about rai as a genre but thought this would be a good way to find out about it, as Cheb Khaled is one of those names I knew of, even if the actual sound was a mystery to me. And it's not common to find interesting records for sale in Latvia, so why not start investigating a genre with something that promises 100% of it? This is from '88 and you can hear it; the drums and synths are right out of MTV from the era, and the traditional Algerian instruments are sometimes hard to make out, or maybe even synth/MIDI versions. Khaled's voice soars over the songs, and he does this choppy/blocky thing sometimes that I like. The more sunshine-drenched tunes like 'El Lela' stick out a bit, because there's an openness and energy that overcomes the dated (to my ears) sound of the instrumentation. Khaled was the biggest of the big in this scene and I'm reading how he sold out later, but by the 1980s rai had already transmogrified into the modern pop music that this is. 'Chab Rassi' has a nice odd distance - its beat propels along like a ball on a hard floor, but there's a whirling flute line that answers Khaled's vocal line and it adds a nice woody assonance to the track. If there are ballads here, then it's a form of balladry I don't get, fast and bulbous; I don't understand the language anyway so it's hard for me to grasp the intent of any of these tracks. It's secular music, that's for sure, and overall it's slickly produced by Boutella, who gets a co-credit and largely handles arrangements and a bunch of instrumentation. There's some nice drum programming on 'Chebba' and a generally bouncy disposition to the whole record, but I really should investigate the rai from earlier decades, when it was genuinely the music of pariahs and rebels. 'Minuit', the closer, hints at that with some street field recordings of an accordion player bringing in the song before it erupts into the world pop confection that fits with the rest of the album. If rai is traditionally Dionysian music, like punk and rembetika, then by this point it had embraced the system pretty fully, I think. I'm not disappointed - though I rarely play this, it suits a certain summer mood, and listening to this provides some form of a escape, as I'm sure it's the closest that I'll ever get to Western Algeria.

Anthony Braxton - 'Creative Orchestra Music 1976' (Arista)

Jumping off from the concise, quartet-based stuff on Five Pieces 1975, we get this large enesemble masterpiece - in some ways the culmination of everything Braxton 'represents'. He keeps his orchestra on a short leash for the most part, but at some points, particularly cut three on side 2, we hear some of the most fully realised potential of big-band improvisation/composition meetings. But let's start at the beginning - side 1, track 1 is a go-getter, a sprightly or attention-grabber that shows off the potential of what happens when you get 15 talented people together. The tune is concise and everyone is held somewhat in check by each other; solos come out but they're balanced in a brass vs. reeds structure and it's a pretty dazzling opening. And well-recorded too! But then, cut two is 8 minutes of quiet experimentation - with an even larger lineup of twenty. There's MEV guys, AACM guys, and some lesser known names but they all take their time feeling out how they can interact spatially. There's some bass drum rubbing, tuba bleats, and other motifs that people associate with 'smart' free jazz, but it's restrained enough that I would maybe even finger this as a track to pick out as a potential eye-opener for the doubters. Cut three is an experimentation with marching band music and is such really fun and, well, fucking racous. Leo Smith is conductor, and I can imagine him wearing some strange red uniform. The liner notes make a reference to Tutti music but all I know is that is fucking rips. When you flip the record, though, you get a very moody, ECM like exploration that steps through several tonal progressions (while still leaving room for piano tinkles and marimba gurgles). There are improvisational sections but they are like the floss between these heavy, post-classical teeth. I like it, but I've always had a thing for mildewy cobweb jazz composition. Braxton musta really carefully sequences Creative Orchestra Music 1976 to balance the peaks and valleys; these slower bits really work well against the full-fledged rock-out-with-your-cock-out moments. Of which the final cut is definitely that, as mentioned above. Creative? Yes. Orchestra? Well, 20 is an orchestra to me though there's a distinct lack of strings. But not a lack of swing; and even the slower, spatial bits maintain some sort of reflection on 'blues' or whatever it is that is the voice of African-American jazz espression.

Carla Bley / Paul Haines - 'Escalator Over the Hill' (JCOA)

Actually, you know, Escalator Over the Hill is my favorite chronotransduction ever. Why can't avant-garde jazz have their own Jesus Christ Superstar? As notorious as this is for being an overblown pretentious pile of art-wank, if you actually listen to it you'll find a pretty good time. There's only a few triple LPs that I think are deserving of the length, and this is one of them. A Lot of People Would Like to See Armand Schaubroeck ... Dead is another, but it'll be years til we get to it. Sandanista is not, and something about that forthcoming Joanna Newsom triple gives me a bad, bad feeling. But let's get to Escalator - the lineup is amazingly great, and I could fill this post naming the luminaries who blow 'n pluck on these six sides: Bley and Mantler, of course, and then Charlie Haden, Don Cherry, Gato Barbieri, Jack Bruce, Don Preston, John McLaughlin, Linda Ronstandt (!), Roswell Rudd, Michael Snow (!), Jimmy Lyons, Enrico Rava, Leroy Jenkins, Dewey Redman .... and that's not counting the unsung heroes like Paul Motian (who drives the drumkit throughout). I am a sucker for Bley's style of brainy big-band deconstructions; I love Tropical Appetites and a lot of the songs here follow a similar pattern, though with Paul Haines' perplexing lyrics. There's a lot of great, soulful movements here; the whole set opens with Roswell Rudd's trombone aching in pain. This Hotel Lobby Band comes back and forth like a Greek chorus, with other smaller breakout groups driving forward the story and the band returning - used to great effect at the end of 'Holiday in Risk'. I'm not going to be a literary critic here, so you won't get any comments on the themes present in the lyrics (mutation, India, conflict, the body, etc.). But as one who enjoys delicate, female-driven songwriting, big-band swing, and weird electro-acoustic sound fuckery -- this has everything for me. It's amazing how incredibly consistent it is over two+ hours. I guess this took a few years to assemble so Bley really could take her time to keep the wheat from the chaff, you know? But while "it's all good", there's still highlights. Linda Ronstadt really has a shit-hot voice, and whenever she takes a tune, it slays ... check 'Why?' on side 2 if you don't believe me. I wonder what this stage production looked like? I can only imagine actors dealing with sounds like the ring-modulated piano or the calliope bits. Jack's Traveling Band (which is McLaughlin, Bley, Bruce and Motian) rip it up in rock-fusion fury on side 3-- to the point where you can only dream of an offshoot LP. It resembles Tony Williams' Lifetime on more than a surface level, though contained into a five minute "rock song" and somehow fitting in place with the rest of this. They come back in 'Rawalpindi Blues' and get a bit more room to explore, when McLaughling busts this nutty guitar line that is super staccato repeated notes. The piece goes into this weird chanted "What will we ever do with you?" vocal part over what sounds like AMM or something, and then the theme is taken up by the other recurring band in Escalator Over the Hill -- the Desert band. They actually appear earlier on side 5 to introduce the Eastern section of the story. This is where Jenkins shines, though it's also copiloted by Don Cherry's ethnoclouds of trumpet (and later his vocal glossolalia). The cello (played by Calo Scott) has a tambura/Bharat vibe, and these sections feel like a slice of curry-flavoured gristle in the middle of wedding cake. Overall, cause it's been a few years since I last listened to this, I'm kinda blown away by how good it is. I could probably go to this at any point during the last ten years and found something in there to reflect on my current interests. When I was into jammy, spacey rock explorations I would have enjoyed the Jack's Traveling Band sections; when I was interested in oblique songwriting, well, pretty much all of the parts with singing would apply. Free jazz? Of course, and more restrained improvisations are all over this, too. Outsider, NWW-listy sounds? Sure, they're the glue that holds this together really. There's also a few tunes where the voice drifts over the instrumentation in the same way that outsider/free folk does, which I can't explain any better. 'Oh Say Can You Do?' on side four (which is voice and calliope) is what I'm talking about. Ethnic free explorations: see the Desert band, above. Complicated art-rock ideas: the whole thing. Right now what I take from this the most is the idea of composition as a means of liberation, not control. This is a pretty tightly knit triple LP, probably the most tightly knit 3xLP I can think of except for maybe that one Vitamin B12 release. But at the same time, it invites exploration across a shitload of different genres, and can probably be studied to the point of microscopic detail.