Flying Luttenbachers - 'Destroy All Music' (Bourgeois / Elevated Chimp / ugEXPLODE)

I used to think of the Flying Luttenbachers and that whole Weasel Walter scene as some sort of 'death jazz', made the more extreme by his silly makeup and releasing albums with titles like Destroy all Music. Which makes this listen, a good ten+ years since the last one, so surprising - this is really quite goddamn musical. This is an earlier, more jazz-based lineup of Walter's ever-shifting ensemble and it's really just descended from the New York school of spazzy fusion improv, John Zorn and Massacre, Bill Laswell, etc. Despite the presence of Ken Vandermark, Dylan Posa's guitar is what really drives this (as well as Walter's strangely light touch on the drumset). 'Demonic Velocities/20,000 Volts' opens up the record with a pretty straight-up blueprint of what we'll get - tooting reeds, bumpy electric bass, and sheets of noisy guitar that is mixed low enough that everything else gets to breathe and find space. When Posa gets crazy strumming and picking the bridge, it works well with the chaos ('The Necessary Impossibility of Determinism' being one such example) but really, this is a pretty damn composed record. There's a joy throughout this, a real spirit of living despite the violent sonorities, suggesting that this is really a bunch of softies having a play at being extreme. The chops are undeniable, and when it drops into more traditional jazz swinging ('Tiamat En Arc') the inevitable descent into guitar noise feels integrated rather than sarcastic. Listening to this is fun, and not at all annoying which is how I remember later records like Revenge sounding. The final cut maybe is a preview of that direction, but in a small dosage, it's pretty fun. The synths add a nice touch as well, a bit of a Sun Ra Atlantis vibe (on 'Verlag Aus Den "Turbo Scratcher"'). I just watched Whiplash and decided I hate 'jazz', so this picked up my spirits somewhat. They aren't destroying anything, just creating something ephemeral and alive

Creative Construction Company - 'Vol. II' (Muse)

This is an all-star AACM record, featuring six musical geniuses but none household names except for Braxton. I think this was recorded in 1971, though the liner notes are confusing and this release is from '76. It's the second half of a concert, the first half of which I have never heard and I believe these two records make the totality of Creative Construction Company recorded output. As you can imagine from any record that is one composition split over two sides, this is a long, freewheeling group improvisation. It's a uniquely satisfying trip, though, exploring in 35 minutes pretty much everything you'd want from an AACM record. Leroy Jenkins and Muhal Richard Abrams steal the show, if you ask me; Jenkins is always a favourite presence for me and here he flirts around with toys and harmonicas, sometimes sounding like an accordion to jab against Braxton's meanderings. Leo Smith is underrated, as is percussionist Steve McCall -- hell, all these dudes are underrated. The live recording puts a hell of an echo on the drumset - the end of side one sounds like it's recorded in a cave, and it sets a pace for the dark modal piano that opens the flip. When they get quiet, as they often do, there's a bit of AACM magic. Richard Davis gets the bow out a lot, and these are my favourite bits. One part on side two I think has Braxton on contrabassoon while Davis scrapes away. It's like a worm rolling around, stuck on a hot sidewalk after the rain; it sneaks into something furtive and suspenseful, particularly with Smith wanders in. Ornette Coleman is credited as 'Recording Supervisor', no doubt to sell some copies - I suspect he was there at the Washington Square Methodist Church, checking out the gig, and that's about his entire involvement here. This is group improvisation as it's meant to be! And also, one of those rare instances when a supergroup actually is. Seek it out.

Anthony Braxton - '3 Compositions of New Jazz' (Delmark)

And thus we begin the Braxton gauntlet, one that runs back-to-back with the Brinkmann gauntlet. What a stunning debut! And even when compared to the other gems of AACM sound resonance emerging around this same era (1968) -- such as Roscoe Mitchell's Sound or the early Art Ensemble stuff on the box set -- 3 Compositions of New Jazz is an incredible explosion of creativity, a new direction for music yada yada yada. But really, as someone who owns ten Anthony Braxton LPs, all of which we are going to explore in the next week or so, this is the one that really started it all and it still sounds great. Maybe we can say that this is a Braxton still exploring his own voice, because these three compositions are modular and fluid, moving from instrument to instrument with nary a pause to reflect. The Art Ensemble of Chicago are of course kindred spirits, but a difference here is a focus on composition rather than group interaction. It's hard not to think some bits of this are improvised, but the vocalisin' is so in tune with the harmonica or violin or trumpet that you know Anthony's kept the reins held tight. The band, by the way, is Braxton, Muhal Richard Abrams, Leroy Jenkins and Leo Smith, and that's about as powerful of a collection of Chicago artists as you'll get. The track titles are unrepresentable in Google Blogspot's UTF-8 limitations, but side 1's a mission statement if I've ever heard it. Jenkins and Smith lock into some dazzling contrapuntal runs, but then also Braxton comes in with a reedy, woody tone that darts around the convetions of blues and jazz to express his youth and wide eyes. Percussion is limited but oh-so-effective - a sharp click of a wooden block can just bite through everything. Side two begins with some a long piece built around duets. At times Jenkins is sawing away while Abrams is creating circular patterns up and down the piano board, and it's manic and calm at the same time. How does he do it? There's never any impulse for "all in" -- instead this while album is a collection of miniatures. Abrams is a constant throughout the side 2 piece, and when everyone else drops out it becomes an impulsive, honest vision into the misty industrial skyline. 'The Bell', composed by Leo Smith, closes things with a somewhat more attenuated sense of dissonance and drama. There's still an emphasis on open spaces and open forms, but that's kinda what we expect from this gang , right?