Manafonistas

Im Borusan Music House, in Istanbul, spielt am 15. Februar der Gitarrist Eivind Aarset mit dem Elektroniker und Live-Remixer Jan Bang. Kurzentschlossene können sich bis Freitag früh eine Last-Minute-Reise überlegen, in der Regel gibt es da sehr preiswerte Angebote, und über die Reize der Altstadt muss hier kein Wort verloren werden. Wer nun nicht dieser wunderbaren Reiseidee erliegt (es gibt wahrscheinlich noch Karten an der Abendkasse), sollte vielleicht der aktuellen Arbeit des Duos (DREAM LOGIC, auf ECM) an einem ruhigen Abend in heimischen Gefilden seine Aufmerksamkeit schenken: man wird da auch, ohne einen Flieger, an andere Orte transportiert. Wer aber kommt, möge an der Kasse nach mir fragen (ich fliege Donnerstag, nach der Produktion der JazzFacts, dorthin), so Lust vorhanden ist auf einen kleinen Musikplausch zu türkischem Kaffee.

First listen

„It’s to Willner’s credit that, for all their inevitable anachronisms, the Rogues Gallery records don’t devolve into throwaway collections of hedonistic drinking songs or pirate caricatures. They are, above all, tributes to rough living — stories of death and solitude and hardship, both on the high seas and at shore. Like their predecessors in 2006, these 36 songs are often gloomier and more serious than the concept might suggest at first blush. Wisely and thankfully, Son of Rogues Gallery draws on a bleak-music Murderer’s Row to put them across.“

Michael E: After listening to the album on npr.org and falling in love with two songs immediately (the opening song and „Finishing Jubilee Street“) and knowing there’s still much to discover, I read Luke Turner’s review at quietus.com which is offering a similar kind of of freshness and intelligence that will make PUSH THE SKY AWAY a long-time companion. And, yes, the two sides of Nick Cave are hanging together here: the ballads (far away from the business-as-usual kind), and the raw energy (that can be felt on lots of places in these songs, as a power and a menace that could explode at every moment, so to speak).

Mr. Anonymous: Another Nick Cave album that ceases to have anything to say,how much longer are we to indulge Cave and his bourgeois phoney angst musings? Its become a formulaic perennial conveyerbelt of plaintive introspection and meaningless rawkus tired rock cliches. Why release this diluted going through the motions pap? if you’ve got nothing to say why bother?I listened to it once and smashed it against the wall,why would i want to listen to this vapid self indulgent middle class Brighton fucking shit? The cover hints at the emptiness of the content and Caves insipid risible latterday product. Stick to shopping in Waitrose Nick in your nice jeans,i no longer wish to pay for your tasty ready meals anymore

Michael E: Mr. Anonymous! Always interesting to see someone coming along with a wholly different perception. I’m not a follower or fan, and there have been records of The Seeds I didn’t like too much. I didn’t like his Murder Ballads, and even the highly praised Boatman’s Call is not my cup of Darjeeling first flush. But Nocturama is! So, the new one is brilliant in some ways, and not the usual „procedere“. The musical textures are rich and beyond well-trodden paths.

Carpathian: I’ve no idea how anybody (yes, I mean you Mr/Mrs/Miss Anonymous) could take this album as any sort of business as usual in the Bad Seeds camp. I’ve not heard them sound so refreshed and vital for a good few releases. The space in the music is crackling with intent and the lyrics are wonderfully evocative & yet just obtuse enough to intrigue. Off the back of a handful of listens it is indeed up there with Old Nick & Co’s best efforts to date. Couldn’t be happier or, thankfully, more pleasantly surprised with where they’ve pushed their sound. (source: thequietus.com)

1) Stephan Micus: You are the treasure of life, aus: Panagia 2) Penguin Cafe Orchestra: Music for a found Harmonium, aus: A brief history 3) Charles Lloyd / Jason Moran: Journey Up River, aus: Hagar’s Song 4) I am Kloot: Let them all in, aus: Let it all in /  I am Kloot: Hold Back The Night aus: Let it all in 7) Charles Lloyd / Jason Moran: Bolivar Blues, aus: Hagar’s Song 8) Sigbjorn Apeland: Lite, aus: Glossolalia 9) Stephan Micus: You are the life-giving rain, aus: Panagia

привет Майкл, есть еще что-то, что можно сделать с пингвиновым кафе-оркестром хороший отчет. в Лиссабонемы были на территории старого замка, Он расположен над городом и хорошо виден. И там, в углу, замок, басист и англичанин на аккордеоне. и они сыграли эту самую песню, что вы делаете этим утром также играл. мы спонтанно аплодировали ...

Music For A Found Harmonium

Everybody has stories to tell about living with his or her favourite records. I like the story Noshin is telling us because of the mix of musical description and personal experience. I like some songs of the album, but i didn’t fall on my knees when I heared it at the first time. That happened to me, for example, when I had my first listening experience with Brian Eno’s Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy). The music never dated. I keep returning. – M.E.

Everyone knows your favourite albums are usually those you heard in your teens (Up to Our Hips), soundtracking first love, independence and heavy-duty revision (Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea). They’re not supposed to be records you discovered two years ago by a band you’d always filed away in the „Stuff Old White People Like“ box in your brain. But so it goes with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.

In November 2009, I spent four weeks criss-crossing the States only to fall madly in love with Los Angeles. Finally home on a cold Friday night to Hackney and my husband, I came across a battered copy of Rumours I’d picked up from a rental car on the way. We put it on, expecting nothing more than softly rocking California cheese. We were stunned. Lying on the sofa, expectations confounded, we waited for a rubbish number to kick in. Songbird, a gooey if touching ballad, was as bad as it got. Forty minutes later, all I could say was: „Dude! Who knew?“

The rest of that weekend, and many more after, was spent with Rumours playing in the background. The revelations were numerous: no, that wasn’t an abominable Corrs cover, Dreams was beautiful dream pop! Yes, The Chain was used as the Formula One theme tune but it’s also One Of The Greatest Songs Ever Written!

But it was never just about the music. It’s also the drama attached to the album’s creation. Drink, drugs and divorce weren’t new to rock’n’roll but Fleetwood Mac took them to cartoonish near-parody that I, coming from a fairly histrionic family prone to high drama, could relate to. Why have one couple in the band splitting up when you can have two? Why spend six weeks in the studio when you can spend six months? And why not hoover up so much cocaine you feel compelled to give your dealer a credit in the sleeve notes? (To the label’s relief, they didn’t in the end; said dealer died before the album’s release.)

For the next eight months, my husband and I danced around the living room, took long drives and did the laundry to the sound of the Mac. I forced the singles into party playlists, threw a strop in a club because I just wanted to go home and listen to Gold Dust Woman, and once spent 10 hours in a parked car with two friends during Latitude festival, just so we could listen to Rumours on repeat.

Having loved and lived the album to an extensive degree, at some point last summer my relationship began to unravel. We were almost seven years into our marriage and something began to itch. Lovesick, angry and bitter, I began to find Rumours painful to listen to (although I did nothing but). For three months, I mooched around zombie-like. Suddenly, Stevie Nicks didn’t sound so sexily anguished; she sounded broken. Lindsey Buckingham’s carefully crafted arrangements weren’t just poetic, they were incitement to an emotional meltdown.

It’s faintly ridiculous to feel sentimental about an album you’ve known so briefly. But, as my husband and I got our collective shit together, I became pretty certain this was, however gratingly cliched, Our Album. I married him partly because we had similar musical tastes – synth-pop, shoegaze and obscure disco – but I couldn’t think of anything we’d discovered together so epic, glorious, volatile and crazy. In short, a bit like us.

David Bowie

 
 
Big Bang überschrieb Jochen seinen Artikel vom 06.02.2013. Es ging ums Älterwerden und den damit verbundenen Unannehmlichkeiten etc, aber eben auch um David Bowie und Jochens Freude auf dessen Neuveröffentlichung im März. Für mich war dieser Artikel der Auslöser, nach vielen Jahren endlich mal wieder sämtliche Schallplatten und CDs von David Bowie aus meinem Plattenschrank zu kramen und sie einmal wieder zu hören. Acht Titel hatten es mir besonders angetan:
 
 
 

 
 
 
1. Memory of a free festival von der Langspielplatte Space Oddity. Mit dieser Platte, erschienen 1969 begann meine Geschichte mit David Robert Jones, der seinen Namen 1966 bereits zu David Bowie verwandelt hatte. Space Oddity war längst nicht sein erstes Werk auf Schallplatte, er trat bereits seit 1963 mit verschiedenen Bands auf, aber es war seine erste einigermaßen erfolgreiche Veröffentlichung. Ein Jahr vor der Veröffentlichung dieser Scheibe, hatte sich Bowie übrigens vergeblich bei Apple Records beworben. Memory of a free festival ist ein gänzlich außergewöhnliches Werk. Während der ersten Hälfte des 7:09 Minuten langen Stückes singt Bowie höchst eindringlich, nur von einem Instrument begleitet, während der zweiten Hälfte geht es dem Hörer wie bei einem Werk der Beatles, ich meine Hey Jude. Auch hier stellt man sich einen Tonmeister vor, der sein fast geleertes Bierglas auf den Hauptaufnahmeregler stellt, der dann unendlich langsam die immer gleiche Musik und den immer gleichen Text ausblendet. Trotzdem: ein tolles Stück.
 
2. Nicht jede Platte von Bowie gefiel mir, nur insgesamt neun schafften es in meinen Plattenschrank. Dazu gehört natürlich die 1970 erschienene Platte The man who sold the world. Ein raues Album, im Gegensatz zu Space Oddity eher eine Hard-Rock-Platte. Das Titelstück hat es mir besonders angetan.
 
3. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars kam dann 1972 heraus und Starman war mein absolutes Lieblingsstück auf dieser Scheibe.
 
 
 

 
 
 
4.1973 habe ich mir dann eine Single-Platte von Bowie gekauft und auf ihr findet sich der damalige Partyknüller Rebel Rebel.
 
 
 

 
 
 
5. Bowie lebte von 1976 bis 1978 in West Berlin, wo er meines Wissens nach zwei eigene Alben aufnahm: Low (unter Mitwirkung von Brian Eno) und …
 
6. Heroes, auch dieses Platte habe ich mir natürlich anschaffen müssen. In Bowies Berliner Zeit gab dann aber auch noch Aufnahmen mit Iggy Pop.
 
7. In den späten siebziger und vor allem in den achtziger Jahren verlor ich Bowie aus dem Blick. Erinnert sein hier lediglich an China Girl, ein wunderschönes Stück aus dem Sommer 1983.
 
8. Die vorerst letzte Platte von Bowie – Outside – kaufte ich mir auf Empfehlung von Michael Engelbrecht, der diese Scheibe 1996 in seinen Klanghorizonten im Deutschlandfunk vorstellte und besonders auf die Mitwirkung von Brian Eno (einmal mehr) hinwies. Mein Lieblingsstück No Control!
 
 
 

 

*4CD Box Set featuring 70 tracks from the Morriconne Archives* „With his peerless versatility and productivity, Ennio Morricone is one of the most famous and influential composers of the twentieth century. Drawing from an extraordinary range of musical styles, his 500 film scores have accompanied every conceivable musical genre. Morricone’s innovative soundscapes for Sergio Leone’s mid-sixties spaghetti westerns changed film music forever. In any context, the composer’s work is a formidable combination of eclecticism, sensuality and playfulness. The arty erotica of Giuseppe Patroni Griffi’s Metti, una sera a cena is perfectly complimented by Morricone’s cool jazz score and his music gives humour and great beauty to such offbeat period pieces as Forza g and Il Gatto and the abstraction that is L’assoluto naturale (starring the Yugoslavian actress Sylvia Koscina and the superb Laurence Harvey). Arguably the most impressive of the set are the composer’s scores for the early Argento giallos, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage and Four Flies on Grey Velvet. In the former, Morricone’s ominous, haunting music establishes an almost unbearable suspense and for the latter combines bracing atonality with a send up of progressive rock (the director’s first experiment with such music and a prelude to Goblin)“ (Boomkat)

Die mit dem Älterwerden verbundenen Unannehmlichkeiten würde man allzu gerne in einer Fußnote abhandeln oder frühmorgens auf einer To-Do-Liste streichen, um den restlichen Anforderungen des Tages dann mit flexiblem Tai Chi zu begegnen. Wo die Gefahr wächst, da wüchse das Rettende ja auch, tröstete Philosoph Heidegger und wir wollen es gerne glauben. Zuspruch und Zeugenschaft findet man bei so manchem Zeitgenossen. David Bowie etwa fragte gerade altersweise: „Where are we now?“ – und auf sein neues Album, das am elften März erscheint, darf man sich freuen, auch weil dort Gitarrist David Torn seine Finger im Spiel hat. David Sylvian sang auf Manafon die Zeilen: „Its not just the boredom, its something endemic – its the fear of disorder, stretched to its limits.“ Wo Utopia war, wird Entropia? Schöne Aussichten! Zur bevorzugten Literatur dieses Themas zählen Jean Amerys Über das Altern – Revolte und Resignation, ferner Der Knacks von Roger Willemsen und Silvia Bovenschens Älterwerden. Soeben von einem Zahnarzt kommend, der mir langfristig keine guten Aussichten prognostiziert, halte ich in der linken Hand deren Buch, in der rechten ein Kühlpack, und lese:

„Jetzt, 2005, habe ich die Vorstufe zu Big Bang erreicht. Ich bin permanent beim Zahnarzt. Auf dem zurückgekippten Stuhl (…) denke ich an eine Geschichte, die mir meine Freundin (…) vor Jahren erzählte. Sie handelte von einem Mann, der sich erschiessen wollte, weil ihn die tägliche Zahnputzprozedur so langweilte. Das hatte mir sofort eingeleuchtet. Daher komme ich jetzt zu dem absurd tröstlichen Schluß: Je weniger echte Zähne du haben wirst, desto kürzer wird diese Prozedur dauern. Dann aber fällt mir ein, dass für Jean Amery, in seinen angenehm unbeschwichtigenden Ausführungen zum Älterwerden, allein die Aussicht auf einen partiellen Zahnersatz die Altersniederlage einläutete.“

There are a lot of lovely witness stories on Butch. Here’s one by Linda Cooper, friend of mine. Linda knew Butch from the very early days. She took this picture which tells something which is behind or hidden in all the stories told.
 
 

 
 
“Butch was a prince in NYC, especially in the east village. His charisma, personality, generosity – a very likeable guy – who had the talent and conviction that what he was doing would be the future of music. He developed a new musical vocabulary. And many people know he was onto something. Thanks to the almost 200 conductions he left us we will all be able to listen to this treasure chest of music … but we will no longer be witness to the unpredictability of a live conduction. Alas!” Linda Cooper

I met Butch for the last time last september in Norway. On a boat trip. We walked uphill. Assisting him happened in a beautiful natural way. He listened gently and attentively. He wouldn’t say so much but just be. We talked about the orchestration of human talk.

(I developed an approach for (second) language learning inspired by principles of conduction which opens up lots of joyful, creative possibilities)

You can also listen to Kurt Gottschalk’s WMFU radio feature The Long Goodbye (in memory of Lawrence D. „Butch“ Morris) – accessible on demand HERE.

And you can read what Greg Tate wrote. Tate, author-essayist (Flyboy in the Buttermilk: Essays on Contemporary America) as well as guitarist-leader of the Butch Morris “conductioned” band Burnt Sugar the Arkestra Chamber, looked for his evidently unpublished liner notes to the planned 25th anniversary reissue on CD of Morris’ Conduction #1, Racism in Modern America, a work in Progress. He couldn’t find them. Tate emailed : “hey man those notes are lost in the clouds over here but the 1997 VIBE article I did on Butch could be copacetic. . .” So here that is, in Google Books so a bit hard to navigate, but on page 60 if you loose your place.

Tate’s notes to Morris Conduction #1 lost, find his Vibe article HERE.
(all via JAZZBEYONDJAZZ, website of Howard Mandel)

Poet/playwright/critic Allan Graubard has been a close friend and collaborator with Butch Morris, writing notes for Testament: A Conduction Collection as well as their theater work, “Modette,” and the liner notes intended for the 25th anniversary re-issue of Conduction #1, Current Trends in Racism in Modern America, A Work in Progress. Graubard also was working in the months preceding Butch’s death January 29 to complete his book about conduction. Find his liner-notes HERE!

And, last but not least find Howard Mandel’s notes on that work of Butch HERE!

photography by Steve Tibbetts, Berlin, October 2021