Ramnad Krishnan - 'Vidwan: Songs of the Carnatic Tradition' (Nonesuch Explorer)

These four sides of Carnatic classical music were recorded while the musicians were in a residency at Wesleyan. No date is given but this came out in '68 so one would have to assume it was from around this time - during the summer of love, perhaps? Krishnan has a strong and reedy voice, and it's recorded really up-front, making these Telugu lyrics really reverberate. Of course I don't know what they're saying, and I don't know anything about Carnatic music, but that's the escapism of music. Not that when listening to this material (or anything else equally impenetrable to me on a linguistic level) I make up my own meanings; maybe when I was younger I did or I tried to interpret a narrative through non-verbal moods and images at least, but now I just ride along with the sounds, harmonies, layers, assonances and dissonances. Most of these tracks are loooong (10-20 minutes), built around little more than a violin, some percussion, and the everlasting tampura drone that makes Indian music so distinct. V. Thyagarajan is the violinist, and he plays it seated and upright, like a tiny cello - this allows him to saw in and out quickly around the notes and this leads to some stunning, stark passages where everything drops out except the violin and tampura. This is recorded in a way that makes it sound somewhat tinny, or maybe a better word would be 'crisp'; the little bells on the percussion instruments sound like they are right here in the room with me, and that presence gives it a lasting physical feeling, especially due to its length. Four sides are a lot of Carnatic tradition, and each seems to be punctuated with the same structural shifts as the others - solos, long jammy passages, and vocal fore-fronting. The fourth side is billed as an improvisation, so I spent the whole record looking forward to it, hoping that I would be hearing some sort of freakout AMM/No Neck Blues Band style jam. But alas, it was an improvisation around fairly tightly defined Carnatic traditional structures. Which is to say that its still a fine side o' vinyl, as fine as the other three, but I didn't detect any increased freedom or looseness here; this is hardly Tristano's 'Digression' or Coltrane's Ascension - but that's OK, its not necessary at all for everyone in the 60s to let loose in a wild way. Krishnan died in the early 70s but is still well regarded in this world; Thyagarajan popped up on a lot of recordings by Jon Higgins, who is also one of Carnatic music's greatest practitioners, despite being originally from Massachusetts (thanks, Wikipedia).

Kiila - 'Tuota Tuota' (Fonal)

Being in the K's, we're going to get a lot of Finnish stuff since that's the most common consonant in their alphabet. Actually, as I write this, I think this is the last Finnish record we'll encounter. But it comes close after the Kemialliset Ystävät LP, which a few members of Kiila appear on. Tuota Tuota doesn't sound much like KY though, or even much like Heartcore, the first Kiila CD which we'll get to if the CDs ever catch up with the LPs (not likely). While that CD is a more sketch-based set of songs with ambient overtones, the turn towards folk/traditional-influenced material is heavy here. Pekko Käppi is part of the band, and main songwriter Niko-Matti Ahti favours pastoral imagery (at least from what I can make out - my Finnish ain't so great); when the two of them sing together, or at least I think it's the two of them, it has a great, rough hewn to it. Not gruff, but not gentle, a bit scratchy around the edges, and that's when Kiila is at their best. There's a delicate approach to acoustics, with guitars and bowed strings forming much of the basis of the songs; the electric instrumentation includes bass guitar and keyboards, but they're always in balance with the more organic side. This is quite a jammy band, and that's the beauty; the lengthy 'Portaissa' which closes the first half ends in a cacophony of little noises and shaken bits, like a wave that crashes onto a shore and then leaves slowly evaporating foam. A female vocalist, I think Laura Naukkarinen (Lau Nau) takes charge of 'Niin Kuin Puut', and the pattern starts over - a delicate folky piece to start the side, and then more fleshed out jams as it progresses. 'Kehotuslaulu' ('invitation song', roughly) has a real hoedown feel, as whatever instrument Käppi bows attains a hillbilly twang; Jaakko Tolvi's drumming is always solid and the rave-up moments are truly festive, even a bit silly. 'Uhka, Uhka, Uhka' takes on the darkest tone; affected electric guitar and dense organ drones pull this closer to good 70s prog and away from the Finnport Convention approach that their more recent material has taken on. It's recorded in a really up-front way, like a bunch of musicians jamming in a studio and with the atmosphere set entirely by the arrangements, rather than any sort of clever roomsound or creative mic placement. It also reminds me of some of Nico's work (as in Christa Päffgen Nico, not Niko-Matti Ahti whose work it already is); in general, I'd say Kiila's aesthetic is actually kinda Krautrock influenced, as the best jammy parts can shift from medieval organs and tinkling bells to a monstrous, infectious bass-driven groove. But they are tasteful enough not to overdo it, and the closing cut (an instrumental) teases that it's going to be an 'everything but the kitchen sink' mess before tightening up around a focused theme. 

Fairport Convention (A&M)

If you came here expecting a review of the first Fairport Convention album, their lone release with Judy Dyble as vocalist, you're going to be disappointed. This is actually the second Fairport record, correctly known as What We Did on Our Holidays but released in the US as a self-titled record, just like They used to do so often to be intentionally confusing (or, I'm sure there was a better reason, but, eh). This is another record that is, at this point, "iconic" but we'll try to actually hear it this time through. 'Fotheringay' is the opening cut, along with 'Meet on the Ledge' the two eternal classics from this album (which will appear on any Fairport/Thompson greatest hits comp that has the rights to them). The traditionals are the high points - remember, unlike most of their ilk, Fairport actually started more "rock" and migrated towards "folk". 'She Moves Through the Fair' is one of those things that would truly define the movement, and the then-contemporary covers (Joni Mitchell's 'Eastern Rain' and Dylan's 'I'll Keep It With Mine') situate it in a wrapping that is strangely paisley with a British tweed mix (which would probably look godawful were it a real fabric and not a badly-designed music-writing metaphor). 'Book Song' is an original that feels akin to 'Percy's Song', with an inspired Thompson blues-influenced solo that has just a wonderful, earthy tone. The blues progression of 'Mr. Lacey' is a bit tired, and Simon Nicol's 'End of a Holiday' ends things with a melancholy I find less than convincing. But I'm just nitpicking; the way the dark moods of '"The Lord Is In This Place... How Dreadful Is This Place"' explodes into the pure pop of Thompson's 'No Man's Land' is more or less magic, even if the "folk" and "rock" are split across two tracks. It's so easy to look back at this as an experiment in synthesis and lose sight of the emotion and feeling of what it meant for young British rockers to be rediscovering this material. It's the feeling that made this a cornerstone of a movement, or rather an empire.