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A Consumer Guide to the Trailing Edge: July, 2005

Recycled Goods (#21)

by Tom Hull

Five more/less world music titles in the top section, a big bump from the usual one or two. Four of the remaining five are more/less jazz, not that they started out that way. Over the long haul these fluctuations should even out, although the backlog continues to look like jazz and more jazz. Speaking of which, the second "In Series" takes a look at a series of reissues from a French avant-garde label called America -- a series every bit as unheard as Atavistic's Unheard Music Series. Also note that some very good records lurk under Briefly Noted.

African Underground Vol. 1: Hip-Hop Senegal (2001-03 [2004], Nomadic Wax). Benny Herson, who created this "Soundbombing of Senegal" tape following up a thesis he wrote at Hampshire College, contrasts the social conscience and political activism of Senegalese hip-hoppers to the crass materialism of their apolitical American counterparts. Still, Herson's liner notes are more explicit than anything I can gather from the raps -- the ones in English and French anyway (Wolof just sounds like Wolof to me). But what I do hear is a slightly Africanized funk supporting the rappers, not much different than what you can find elsewhere. Although Senegal may be more saturated than most places, it's the point in Africa closest to America, and has in the past been the first part of Africa to cycle Afro-American musics back. Salsa is the most famous example, but hip-hop looks to be the future. A-

Bebo & Cigala: Lágrimas Negras (2002 [2003], Calle 54/Bluebird). Cigala is Spanish flamenco singer Dieguito "El Cigala" -- his voice is somewhere between hoarse and a whisper, yet he can modulate it to convey intense emotion, and his ability to sing within such vocal limits reminds me of no one so much as Louis Armstrong. Bebo is octogenarian Cuban pianist Bebo Valdés, an elegant and appreciative accompanist. Flamencoists Israel Porrina "Piraña" and El Niño Josele add cajón and guitar, and there is a bit of fiddle; Cuban Paquito D'Rivera joins on the title cut with particularly lovely also sax. A-

James Chance: Sax Education (1978-88, Tiger Style, 2CD). The combination of Chance's thin, skronky alto sax with August Darnell's disco beats sounds like state-of-the-art jazztronica but dates from a quarter of a century ago. At the time, Chance's idea was to follow CBGB new wave with something weirder -- a James Brown beat damaged in the larceny; sharp, whiney, yelping proto-punk vocals; toy keybs, guitar drone, girlie choruses. Not sure if it was meant as comedy, but it is: a lot funnier in reality than the idea of Albert Ayler playing disco-punk fusion. First disc contains "the hits"; second is a concert, so he gets to play the hits again. A-

Graham Collier: Workpoints (1968-75 [2005], Cuneiform, 2CD). The British never paid bebop much heed. Well into the '60s British jazz was dominated by the trad jazz movement -- Ken Colyer, Humphrey Lyttelton, Chris Barber, Acker Bilk, Kenny Ball. Then in the late '60s Britain developed a distinctive avant-garde culture, built as much on the ideas of ultramodernists like Karlheinz Stockhausen and Cornelius Cardew and the suddenly expanding vistas of art rock as on anything in the jazz tradition -- least of all bebop. (The few exceptions to the no-bop rule included Tubby Hayes and Ronnie Scott, remembered mostly as eccentrics.) These two concerts led by bassist Collier are good examples of the evolution of the new British jazz. The first is a large band -- nine horns, vibes, bass and drums -- working in extended forms, striking in the intricate layering of horns and the muscularity of the rhythm. The other is a sextet, also working long pieces, this time centered around Ed Speight's guitar. In both the composer maintains control while letting the bands work out the details -- a mid-point between the arranger dominance of the classic swing bands and the pure improvisation just around the corner, but not transitional. More like a new foundation for a postclassical European music invigorated by jazz. A-

The Ultimate Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan: The Early Years, Vol. 1 (1978-82 [2005], Narada, 2CD). Qawwali is sufi devotional music from Pakistan, a narrowly circumscribed tradition going back hundreds of years, but for the last twenty years dominated by one of the world's great musical forces, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. From the 1970s to his death in 1997 Khan recorded a hundred or more albums -- mostly cassettes, but he emerged as a world music icon in 1990 when RealWorld introduced him through a westernized experiment called Mustt Mustt. Since then those awed by his vocal powers have wondered about the real qawwali and its classical roots. It is no doubt impossible for outsiders to sort out his works: they start with an inevitable sameness, then grow on you almost subliminally. I find that this one sounds better every time I play it, but then so do many others -- is one's enthusiasm simply a function of how many times you play it? These early pieces, typically long from 12 to 29 minutes each, seem a bit more constrained than later work -- the rhythm rigid, the vocals entwined in the group context. That may make this more authentic, or may mean he was only starting to find his way. Still, if this was all we had to choose from, we'd play it enough to be amazed. But this is only the beginning. B+

Konono No. 1: Lubuaku (2003 [2004], Terp). Soukous from Kinshasa, but with the usual slick guitars replaced by electrified likembes, a thumb-piano which at first sounds like dissonant steel pans, and the usual slick vocalists supplanted by intense shout choirs. The sound is so dirty that you suspect a new concept in lo-fi, or a devolution back to the jungle. Sponsored by the Ex -- roughly speaking, Holland's answer to the Mekons -- who arranged a tour and opened. They advise playing it loud, where the energy overwhelms the noise. A-

Annette Peacock: My Mama Never Taught Me How to Cook: The Aura Years (1978-82 [2004], Castle). Married first to Gary Peacock then to Paul Bley, she was more of a gadfly and joker than jazz musician, although Bley and Marilyn Crispell wound up recording whole albums of her songs. She started singing as input into the synthesizers that intrigued her and Bley, then cut several more/less rock albums in the '70s -- two collected here, plus some outtakes -- before fading away, as if she never conceived of anything as deliberate as a career. Still, her "rock shit" sounds remarkably like jazz even today. As a vocalist she's often thin and undisciplined, but she takes enormous dramatic risks with the title cut and her "Don't Be Cruel" cover. Elsewhere, as on "Survival," she lapses into softly rapped philosophizing that draws the music, a repetitive theme with improvised curlicues, up around her like a warm blanket. A

The Essential Pete Seeger (1941-64 [2005], Columbia/Legacy). He wasn't much of a singer, even less of a banjo player. His songs were utterly square, with their well-meaning and principled politics, without a trace of irony or humor, let alone a beat. He called his music "folk" in the naive hope that the folk might bond with it, and he remained steadfast in that belief for over half a century. Still, these fifteen songs are utterly familiar, even if the versions -- most live, some singalongs -- aren't. They are the true gospel music of America's red diaper babies. A-

World Psychedelic Classics 3: Love's a Real Thing (1972-78 [2005], Luaka Bop). African music often takes decades to wash up on American shores. The process is so convoluted and arbitrary that it's impossible to know much about what's really happening in the mother continent from what little shows up here. But there's some reason to think that the '70s, a post-independence high before the worst rot of kleptocracy set in, were something of a golden age of afropop. These twelve cuts come from a swath of West Africa from Cameroun to Gambia. Psychedelia seems to be one of those labels in the deranged minds of beholders -- the two previous volumes featured Os Mutantes and Shuggie Otis -- but the common thread here seems to be a cheesy funk deriving as much from American sources like Sly Stone and the Temptations' own acid trips as native traditions. Ronnie Graham contributes notes, which help but ultimately the music raises more questions than it answers. A-

Larry Young: Of Love and Peace (1966 [2004], Blue Note). Young pushed the Hammond B-3 organ further than any other musician of his era, moving from his early blues albums into new thing territory. His masterpiece was Unity, cut in 1965 with an all-star lineup -- Woody Shaw, Joe Henderson, Elvin Jones -- that necessarily tied down all the loose edges. His follow-up had no such constraints: Jones was replaced by two no-name drummers, Henderson by two lesser saxophonists (his steady bandmate George Morgan and the ubiquitous James Spaulding), while Shaw gave way to Eddie Gale, a fiery trumpeter then working with Cecil Taylor. The group pushed Young harder and farther than ever, and he responded with some of the most vigorous organ ever cut -- for three cuts, anyway. The fourth and final, a meditation on Islam called "Falaq," is slow and spacious. A-

In Series

Jazz circa 1970 was in turmoil. Death had started to cut down early stars like Coleman Hawkins (d. 1969) and Louis Armstrong (1971), but also much younger stars like Eric Dolphy (1964), John Coltrane (1967), and Albert Ayler (1970). US labels were floundering, with rock-fusion the only new idea that seemed to have a commercial future. At the same time, jazz was gaining ground in Europe -- for the next 25 years many American jazz musicians found their biggest audiences and especially their labels in Europe (and later in Japan). America Records in Paris was a short-lived label that served as a first stop for the itinerant avant-garde. Universal's French subsidiary reissued the series last year, and Verve has imported small quantities to the U.S. -- an unusual and laudable act for a major label. They've been dressed up handsomely, in abstract art on tri-fold cardboard, with booklets that have been cloned except for a few details.

Briefly Noted

Notes

Lead-in:

In an infinite universe, all the music you'll ever need already exists somewhere. We find more each month: hip-hop from Senegal, soukous from Congo, psychedelia from West Africa, qawwali from Pakistan, flamenco con salsa, jazz-rock mutants (James Chance, Annette Peacock), folk gospel (Pete Seeger), free jazz in Paris (the Free America series), much more (55 records).

Copyright © 2005 Tom Hull.