Anyway, eventually I did get round to investigating, and it took me all of one search and one click to locate the actual source of the recording. This, of course, explains why the writing looked like Portuguese: the concert is one of two presented in São Paulo, at SESC Pompéia (which looks really interesting in itself, actually), on 7th and 8th August 2016. The present recording comprises the first concert: hence, the primary territory here is Comp. 366d (four others, three of which are also from the 366 series, are listed as secondaries). The second reed player, as it turns out, was not Fei at all, but rather Ingrid Laubrock.
Leaving aside the obvious fact that I should know better by now than to assume anything about a recording on (a public platform such as) Youtube, this does highlight the difficulty of using Discogs as a reference point, especially for a recording artist as prolific as B. It hadn't occurred to me that this was an official release, simply because I didn't recognise it; I didn't recognise it, because although the vast majority of B's albums can be found under his master entry, Discogs is above all a site created by and for super-nerdy detail-freaks (takes one to know one... ahem); and the Anthony Braxton Quartet, as such, has its own distinct entry. I did know this and had forgotten all about it***.
The music, you ask? It's fabulous, rich in detail and beautifully recorded - all four players seize the chance to shine. It's oh-so-tempting, indeed, to say that it's a "particularly good example" of DCW, or even "one of the best" yadda-yadda... but this would be pure lazy critic speak since, really, I never heard a DCW recording I didn't like; maybe just maybe one or two of them aren't quite as inspired as many others, and this one really does sound as if the players were lit up for sure (as well they might have been, performing in such an extraordinary environment). But it's actually quite a long time since I heard any DCW pieces and as excellent as this one is, I am in no position to say where it ranks in relation to the others of its ilk. It is, however, really good - I enjoyed it immensely and the actual album has (of course) immediately gone onto my wanted list.
***
The very first "daily dose" in the new house, after the recent move, was this (confusingly-titled) album, which I do have as a rip but don't own in proper form, and have not heard for years and years. As some readers may recall, I am not exactly "Mr Standards" at the best of times (although it depends what you mean by standards#), and with rare exceptions, I haven't generally been a hugely enthusiastic listener to B's projects along such lines, being vastly more interested in his own music (even while I respect his continued exploration of the jazz songbook(s) as a practice). This one, however, won me over pretty quickly. It doesn't hurt that several of the pieces are taken very fast, and sound pretty intense as a result; the instrumentation - with B. on alto and sopranino exclusively, and John Raskin on baritone - is curious and quite effective (the album is of course dedicated to Warne Marsh rather than to Tristano, and Marsh played (nothing but) tenor; but he famously had a very "light" tone on his axe, and on recordings he made with Lee Konitz it's not necessarily obvious that one is hearing an alto and a tenor as opposed to two altos). The personnel is/are also interesting: Raskin himself being an eyebrow-raising choice as noted, piano duties are undertaken by Dred Scott, a player with whom I am not familiar at all (but who is not, it seems, your "average jazz musician"; I have no idea how he ended up being recruited for this gig); the rhythm section is completed by Cecil McBee and Andrew Cyrille, two jazz legends who have played with each other many many times, for example on one of Horace Tapscott's better-known recordings (by coincidence - or not? - that one also dates from 1989, though it was not released until much later).
Besides the leader, who has an absolute field day with this project (and really tears into "Victory Ball" in particular, so much so that they simply had to include two takes of that number), Scott is the standout player for me: I found his piano work on this really unusual and interesting - so that I frequently stopped whatever I was doing to listen to his solos, though of course I can't now remember any specific details from any of them. Overall, though, I really did enjoy this album a lot - and have since bought a copy.
As I alluded to above, I found the title confusing: 8+1 = 10? It seemed likely, after all, that the "+1" aspect of the title referred to the second take of "Victory Ball". I was pretty busy at the time and I didn't stop to investigate... so it was only today, in a quieter moment (actually recovering from an intense burst of post-move activity), that I took the time to look at the matter properly. At that point, of course, I was reminded that the recording I had listened to is a reissue/remaster of an earlier edition dating from 1990 - where the titular equation had been 8+3 = 12. The answer, in case it's not obvious, is that the second take of "Victory Ball" is not counted at all, and that the "+" aspect of the title(s) relates to pieces which were not composed by Tristano: in the original case, there were three of these, one by Marsh himself and two "songbook standards"##; for the reissue, the two ringers were dropped, leaving us with the eight tunes written by Tristano, and the one penned by his diligent student. (Upon discovering that there was a copy of the original 1990 CD available from a UK-based seller, for literally half the price of the other copies available over here, I promptly bought it. I can live with the fact that it's not the remastered edition.)
***
Something else I have bought this week is, as I mused might well happen, the notorious Rainbow Gallery boot. This was actually listed as a new copy, but given that it cost me well under a fiver, including postage, I am confident that the bootleggers aren't going to be getting rich through any agency of mine. (As I rambled to myself last time, who cares that this is a shoddily-chucked-together, unauthorised piece of shit? No, I wouldn't buy it from the label, and I would never dream of paying more than a few quid for it; but it's still a pretty interesting recording to have.) When it arrives, I will see whether a proper listen to the CD reveals anything previously not discerned by this friendly experiencer... assuming, that is, that I can find something to play it on by then###.
***
Finally, a very quick word about something else I have been digging since we moved house: a solo concert which I hadn't heard before, and I do own quite a few of the solo alto albums on CD (as well as having rips of several others). I was peripherally aware of this one, for which the materials principally favour the 170 series, and once again I am terribly tempted to make like a music journo and say it's one of the best, blah blah. Realistically - and I have definitely said this before, and more than once - B. is never ever going to let his level slip when it comes to his core discipline, the theory and practice of alto saxophone playing; and in concerts where he is presenting this core discipline in its pure form, interpreting music which in many cases he has only recently written for the instrument, there is zero chance of anything short of total commitment and focus, so listening satisfaction is pretty much guaranteed. With all that said, though, I really was extremely impressed by this album - and I personally did enjoy it more than, say, this more recent one. (But... that probably just means that I was more distracted when playing that other album. Ignore me...)
***
McC S: thanks for your comment. I did see it - I am not sure if you already know why I have not been in a position to respond to it. I will get back to you via email, give me a few days please :-D
* In case that sounds ridiculously random: bassoonist Katherine Young featured in some of the DCW groups around this time.
** For the benefit of any reader who follows that link and is tempted to hunt down the article about Comp. 23c: don't waste any time looking for it... it never made it out of draft form. Sorry! (who knows, maybe one day I might actually finish it?!)
*** This does not, however, explain why (for example) the first disc of the 1993 Santa Cruz concert reissue is listed under the quartet, whereas the second disc is to be found on B's main page(s). Evidently, it depends on which part of the album covers' text you read as the group name, and which part the title...
# I used to make a point of collecting (albums of) Monk covers, for example. I would also consider buying an album just because it included a version of any Eric Dolphy tune. These would probably be considered standards, at this point (anything by Monk obviously falls into that category)
## I presume these two outliers are there for a reason, e.g. Tristano, or maybe Marsh, enjoyed playing them..? But I don't actually know what they were doing there in the first place (and Hat clearly thought they were superfluous to requirements)
### Just before we moved, my little CD player - which I have been using lately - was one of the things I earmarked for moving on its own, rather than letting it be put in a box with a bunch of other stuff from the same room. Alas, I remembered most of the others but by the time I remembered that one, it was too late and it was already packed. Not by me. Hence I currently find myself in a house full of boxes, with no idea which one of them contains my poor CD player. It's there somewhere.
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