– How many times has Rock And Roll been pronounced dead now?

– Often, brother. Slumped on the couch, puke running out of the corners of its mouth, Strat in one hand, smouldering Camberwell Carrot in the other, pulse long gone.

– Many have tried to bury it over the years; the eulogies have been long and extensive.

– For sure. The myth lives longer, but, well, the Rolling Stones have been dead, musically, for over thirty years now. But so many still love to celebrate them. It is good their eulogies have been written in extenso, brother.

– Yeah.

– Yeah.

– But, you know every time the body is cast into the grave and the headstone is in place, a gnarled hand bursts from the soil and soon the lumbering corpse is heading straight to the local hostelry in search of Jack Daniels and a monitor to put its foot on.

– You’re so right, so damned fuckin‘ right. You know i do not like everybody’s darling of hand made, sweating, looking-for-the-next-bar-rock: The Hold Steady, boring. But I love these other motherfuckers,   Deer Tick, and two of their albums, The Last Dirt Sessions and Divine Provenance. They are living inside their music. Inside a not-so-quickly dying beast called rock’n’roll’n’raw!

– Yeah.

– I see the record in your hands, the name of the band is music in my ears: Six Organs Of Admittance and this, well, bona fide guitar god Ben Chasny.

– Yep, that’s what I would call him, too. Clearly Ben Chasny has never been told of Rock And Roll’s precarious health or the truly tragic prognosis given to the guitar solo.

– Yep. He’s been knocking albums out on a yearly basis for what seems like an eternity under the moniker of Six Organs Of Admittance, and this time around he’s roped in Comets On Fire (who are apparently on a never ending hiatus) to help him out.

– From the minute Waswasa kicks in there’s no hanging about. A 5 minute guitar wrecking ball, it quickly changes from 70s riffery into self-indulgent fret-wankery of the highest order.

– Ha ha ha ha!!!  Indulgent it might well be, but it is also utterly captivating.

–  And Ben Chasny knows a lot o twists and turns. Things take a sudden turn, for example, for the psychedelic on Close To The Sky which initially burns slow with an insistent bassline and dreamy haze. But it’s not too long before the wah-wah pedal takes over and Chasny heads off into the heart of the sun soloing like a re-animated Hendrix.

– It never stops to surprise.

– For example, Even If You Knew possesses phenomenal sense of a menace in its bass and drums pattern and when it opens up it is an exhilarating riot of catch and release dramatics and a perfect example of how the most basic riffs can thrill and excite if deployed with such aplomb. The roaring distortion and thundering drums that bring the track to a close prove that guitar music isn’t dead at all, it still has the power to move mountains and break bones.

„Soaring over the top of each track is Hegarty himself, for even as his piano is folded into the general arrangements, his voice rises tall and strong, whether whispering sadly about lost relationships and deep pain, or crying out at the injustice and unfairness of the world, or shouting out for acceptance and love. In “Future Feminism,” he describes his music as being a sort of constant cry to heaven, and never is this more apparent than on the breathtaking climaxes to “Cripple and the Starfish” or “Epilepsy.” In a few words, such as “You are my sister / and I love you,”Hegarty conveys more emotion in his voice than most singers manage in a career. It’s enough to make one jealous of the Danish audience who witnessed these performances. Oh, and cherry on the cake, the studio-recorded “Cut the World” is one of his most beautiful songs, a defiant ballad that is both familiar in scope and startling in its aching delivery.“ (dusted reviews)

Die Vorzüge der Dunkelheit – Neunundzwanzig Versuche die Welt zu verschlingen.

Seit über 30 Jahren kenne und liebe ich die Sprachkunst-Werke von Ror Wolf. Es ist eine ganz eigene Art von Literatur, für die vielleicht nicht jeder einen Sinn hat. Wer aber offen ist dafür, dass mit Sprache, Wortklang, Redewendungen, Klischees, Wortwitz und dem kunstvollen Wechsel aus zwingender Logik und fantastischer Absurdität gespielt wird, sollte unbedingt auch dieses wunderschöne Buch besitzen und verschlingen. Hier werden kleinste Partikel und Fragmente aus allen denkbaren Textsorten zusammengefügt: Abenteuer- und Reisebeschreibungen, Reportagen, Krimis, Katastrophenberichte, Erotik und Wissenschaft. Das ist originell, ästhetisch, im Sekundentakt überraschend und vor allem hochkomisch. Zusammen mit den vielen, wunderbar reproduzierten, surrealistischen Bild-Collagen handelt es sich hier um ein grandioses Gesamtkunstwerk. Ror Wolf gehört meiner Ansicht nach zu den ganz Großen der deutschsprachigen Literatur, aber, trotz der Fangemeinde, die er zweifellos seit Jahrzehnten hat, auch immer noch zu den am stärksten Unterschätzten. Vielleicht verdeckt das scheinbar Unernste, Slapstickhafte der Texte ihre ungeheure Virtuosität und Genialität.

Ganz in den Anfängen tauchte er auf durch eine zufällige Kombination aus Licht, Luft und totaler Abwesenheit von Sound. Daher sehnt er sich nach dem Leib der Stille. In seinen Ohren ist eine stille Welt eine wunderschöne Welt. Macht er sich auf einen Weg, wird er ständig eskortiert von einem Engel und einem Dämon. Sie sind beide stumm. Er beobachtet uns, er ist allgegenwärtig mit seiner milden und schrecklichen Ruhe und seinen sublimen Ohren, die jedes Wort auffangen, egal, wie zögernd oder unvollkommen es ist. Er würde gern unser gesammeltes Murmeln zu perfekter Stille destillieren. Er selbst äussert sich durch kleinste Bewegungen, Blicke und schmerzhafte Pausen, ohne Ende. Er trägt keine Feindschaft gegen uns im Sinn, aber er misstraut uns. Wenn die Lebenden ihn ermüden, wendet er sich den Toten zu. Sie wissen alles über Stille. Sie lauschen ihr. Der Gott der Stille ist ein geduldiger Gott. Er hat genug Geduld zu warten, bis wir alle Fossilien sind.
(Paal-Helge Haugen)

David Sylvian: voice
Jan Bang: samples
Erik Honore: synthesizer, samples, synth bass
Arve Henriksen: trumpet samples (performed by Jan Bang)

Jan Bang & Erik Honore: UNCOMMON DEITIES, out on Samadhisound on Sept, 26 (Radiopremiere des Stückes THE GOD OF SILENCE: Klanghorizonte (DLF-Nachtradio), 27. August 2012, nachts um eins)

Poetry and music always gets mixed reviews, because there are always critics who call such things high brow. A singer has to sing, not recite poems. Bullshit. The poems by two Norwegian lyricists are sensual explorations and mythical fantasies about the lifes of absent gods. A spiritual journey that will even please hard core atheists. Sidsel Endresen is the singer on several pieces. She never sings conventional language. But a careful listener will detect more torch and passion in her performance than in any well-mannered, recycled love song. The music explores and extends the brilliant texts of Paal-Helge Haugen and Nils Chr. Moe-Repstad. You’ll be transported, dear reader, feeling simultaneously safe and sound and fragile at weird places. The voice of Sylvian is in the center, calm and concentrated, telling stories about twilight worlds of power, well, the loss of power, and alienation. And it is a voice that knows when to leave the stage for the spirits around him. It’s a great art to create landscapes where even sweet sounds can be naked and merciless. Five stars. (M.E.)

A film by Marc Atkins and Chris Bigg. Taken from the new album Uncommon Deities by Jan Bang and Erik Honoré.

 
„Nothing“
 
 
Es beginnt mit Alltagsgeräuschen, Stimmen, Lachen, „god, it’s amazing“, dann setzt die Gitarre ein, nur kleines Instrumentarium, alles ist beiläufig, die Verse drehen sich in Kreisen, nichts braucht man hier, in dieser Landschaft, in Island, wo immer. „You don’t cry much / you don’t cry much / you don’t cry much, / nothing to cry here.“ Nothing, nothing, nothing –  dann verliert sich das Lied scheinbar selber, ein kurzer Spuk, ein Hauch von n i c h t s, bis es wieder Fahrt aufnimmt, dieses Kinderlied für Erwachsene, und eine narrenfreie Trompete ins Spiel kommt, die auch Robert Wyatt so spielen könnte. Heimlich hat die Violine das Kommando übernommen, natürlich, ohne grosse Töne zu spucken, und lässt alles auf einem hohen Ton enden. Aus ganz wenig, kaum mehr als nichts, hat Mike Lindsay (Tunng) einen ganz grossen Song gemacht!
 
 
 

 

 
 

 
 
 
1) Jan Bang & Erik Honore: The God of Silence, aus: UNCOMMON DEITIES

2) Christian Fennesz: Sekai, aus: AUN

3) James Yorkston: Kath With Rhodes, aus: I was a Cat from a Book

4) Alexandre Desplat: The Heroic Weather Condition, Part 1: A Veiled Mist,  aus: V.A. – Original Soundtrack Moonrise Kingdom

5) Hank Williams: Ramblin´ Man: aus: V.A. – Original Soundtrack Moonrise Kingdom

6) Benjamin Britten: Songs from Friday Afternoon (Old Abram Brown), aus: V.A. – Original Soundtrack Moonrise Kingdom

7) Emanuele de Raymondi: BV_02, aus: Buyukberber Variations

8) Bill Fay: The Sun is Bored, aus: Bill Fay (Bill Fay from 1971)

9) Terje Rypdal: Darkness Falls, aus: Odyssey

10) Bill Fay: Big Painter, aus: Life is People (Bill Fay from 2012)

11) Bill Fay: The Never Ending Happening, aus: Life is People

12) Matthew Bourne: Phantasie, aus: Montauk Variations

13) Don Cherry: Manusha Raga Komboji, aus: ORGANIC MUSIC SOCIETY

14) John Barry: The Persuaders, aus: V.A. – TV Sound and Image (British Televison, Film and Library Composers 1956-80)

15) Vivaldi: Winter II, aus: Recomposed by Max Richter (Vivaldi: The Four Seasons)

—–

I write: hey, look, jan, this is one of the first playlists in the world with the new Bang/Honore album in, well, very good neigbourhood. Jan Bang answers: that´s what i call a nice birthday present … I answer: oh, happy birthday!!!! You can hang it on the wall:) … Jan answers: not today, but on your broadcasting day. i bought the fennesz album in london recently. beautiful work. I: Fennesz risks being romantic, and it works.

Guy Sigsworth writes: Wonderful playlist. Will check out some of the unknown tracks next weeks. I love Matthew Bourne’s Montauk Variations. His piano playing probably owes as much to Messiaen, John Cage or Ligeti as it does to McCoy Tyner, Bill Evans or Keith Jarrett. Bourne judges mood better than any young pianist I know. Just when the avant-gardism hits the limit of what a generous but unsure listener can comprehend, he’ll resolve into a serenely naive hymn: difficulty and simplicity in perfect balance.

In this fascinating meditation, Talking Heads frontman Byrne (Bicycle Diaries) explores how social and practical context, more than individual authorship, shaped music making in history and his own career. Touching on everything from bird-song and mirror neurons to the scene at CBGB, his wide-ranging treatment analyzes the effect of music venues (he theorizes that terrible stadium acoustics bias arena-rock bands toward plodding anthems), technology (sound recording induced opera singers to add vibrato), finances (he proffers balance sheets for two of his albums), and much else on the music we hear. He draws extensively from his own experiences, as his music shifted from the minimalism of early Talking Heads („no `oh, babys´ or words that I wouldn´t use in in daily speech“) to complex theatricality; his chapters on Heads recording sessions are some of the most insightful accounts of musical creativity yet penned. The result is a surprising challenge to the romantic cliché of musical genius: rather than an upwelling of authentic feeling, he insists, „making music is like constructing a machine whose function is to dredge up emotions in performer and listener.“ Byrne´s erudite and entertaining prose reveals him to be a true musical intellectual, with serious and revealing things to say about his art. (source: Sweeney’s)

Kirk Knuffke und Jesse Stacken haben erst mal ziemlich knuffige Namen. Da sie bei Steeplechase schon mehrere Duo-Alben veröffentlicht haben, hielt ich Knut und Jesse erst mal (schön blöd!) für Dänen, dabei sind es relativ waschechte Amerikaner: und wie spricht man Mr. Knuffke dann aus? Das „k“ stumm lassen, aber das „e“ am Ende auch? Naffk? Oder Knaffki? Oder Naffki? Das sind Fragen, mit denen man schon ganz knapp an einem Koan-Rätsel (und damit womöglich an der Erleuchtung) vorbei schrappt! Die beiden haben Drummer Kenny Wollesen ins Studio geladen (den kennt man z. B. von meinem Bill Frisell-Lieblingsalbum „Unspeakable“). Sie erforschen moderne Jazzkompositionen von Carla Bley bis John Coltrane. Schöne Platte. Karl Lippegaus stellt ein Buch über das bewegte Leben von Jutta Hipp vor, einer Pionierin des Nachkriegsjazz. Karsten Mützelfeldt stellt eine neue CD des westafrikanischen Gitarristen Lionel Loueke vor, das er toller findet als ich: “Heritage”. Zwei Knaller kommen in die 45-Minuten-Sendung: Keith Jarretts “Sleeper” und “Didymoi Dreams” von Sidsel Endresen und Stian Westerhus. Und what the fuck hat der Jazztrompeter Enrico Rava für einen Narren an Michael Jackson gefressen? Ich kläre das – und spiele ein Stück mit Blut auf dem Tanzboden, ehrlich! Gerade landet mein Blick auf dem Cover von “Like A Tree”, dem Album von Knuffke & Stacken: die sehen wirklich aus wie ein altes Stereotyp von Jazzern in unseren Hinterköpfen: Brillen- und Vollbartträger der eine, der andere belässt es beim Vollbart. Zwei “Füchse”, die zum Glück das Rein-Akademische hinter sich lassen, wenn sie Kornett und Klavier in Schwingung versetzen! P.S.: Steeplechase Records-mastermind Nils Winther hat mir die Antwort auf meine drängende Frage gemailt: Ke-naff-ke.

The Norwegian singer and film and theatre composer Sidsel Endresen can touch the emotions of listeners who usually run a mile from abstract improv and experimental electronica. She’s in concert here with guitarist Stian Westerhus at the 2011 Nattjazz festival in Bergen – a set that unfolds lyrical confessions like wordless folk ballads; quiet, speech-like musings; spooky gabbles and gasps; and a guitar palette of astonishing depth. Westerhus sounds as if he’s ringing bells behind Endresen’s bluesy growls on The Rustle of a Long Black Skirt, he lays hammer-drill clatters and clashing-metal noises behind her on Barkis Is Willing, and cushions gentle pieces such as Drawing an Arc or Hedgehumming. The singer’s wounded sounds skid over drones and slaps on Wayward Ho, the standout track. Didymoi Dreams takes no prisoners, and the audience reaction says much about its power, originality and fearlessness. (John Fordham, The Guardian)