Steady diet

It's been a long time, but I've been on a daily diet of Braxton for over a week now, and I certainly do feel better for it :-D

Indeed, the only downside to this - as I discovered this evening - is that if other things get in the way and delay my dose, I can get pretty cranky and short. I reckon it's manageable though... and besides, the benefits definitely outweigh the drawbacks.

As mentioned in previous (recent) posts, I'm mixing it up, listening to very new material and older stuff, juxtaposed. There is nothing schematic about this. As I said last time out, I've only just discovered the ZIM stuff on Youtube and am gradually working my way through those, but that's not all. I picked up a couple of real bargains just recently - albeit albums I already had in "rip" form, just not as official releases - and over the last week I have acquired a couple more: the duo sets with Ted Reichman (which again I already had as a CD-R, even if I hadn't played it in a decade), and with Gino Robair. The latter is one which I have never had in my collection, in any form, until today: it's not especially easy to get hold of, and I count myself quite lucky to have snapped up a very good used CD copy for what is really a pretty reasonable price.

I recall saying before - and probably more than once, though right now I can't remember exactly when, so I'm not going to try and link back to it at this point - that Robair is an improviser whom I consider to be a natural playing partner for B. Everything about his approach to music just seemed to me (back in the day) to be ideally suited to the maestro - and now that I'm actually filling my ears with this stuff, I'm not about to change my mind. Playful, restless, continuously curious and searching and inventive, Robair must surely have felt himself to be in the presence of a kindred spirit the first time they met. I don't know exactly when that was - and the gaping void that the removal of Restructures has left in the internet is once more a source of frustration here - but I do realise that I probably misunderstood something, before. This superb album of questing duets dates from 1987. Jump or Die, the collaborative project between Splatter Trio (with Robair) and Debris, was recorded seven years later, but I think I may have assumed previously (?) that the duo album only came afterwards. Or did I? If so, clearly I didn't check properly, but in any case, maybe I am just misremembering it now. 

I hadn't paid attention to this when acquiring the two CDs, but there is a considerable overlap* with the materials: both feature interpretations of Comps. 86 and 136. I'm still some way away from being closely-enough attuned to essay a comparison between the respective treatments on the two sets, so for now I am just going to note it in passing... in any case, this fantastic album with Robair does not just include B's music: there are two shortish pieces credited to the percussionist and three (presumably freely-improvised) pieces credited to both men, as well as three Braxton-composed numbers**. One of the three joint-credits, titled "Frictious Singularity" (which, amazingly, did not appear on the original vinyl LP), elicits some really astonishing playing from both musicians. I am truly delighted to be able to enjoy this album at long last, and will definitely return to it in the near future.

***

When I said recently that I had picked up the Willisau (1991) Studio 2xCD for less than six pounds, I wasn't lying; but I didn't realise that it was a strictly-limited opportunity. This was on eBay, from a major UK seller which specialises in used media, but which also sells new items - and which apparently had a limited overstock of this release. I think it's still listed as available there, but it's gone up by a few pounds now... still, it is currently much cheaper (anywhere you shop, I think - at least online) than it was eighteen months ago. Anyone who doesn't have it already... needs it in their collection. Simple as that.

***

I am only three pieces into the ZIM project, which is to say one quarter of the way through; but as I said last time, I find these pieces quite remarkably beautiful, and very definitely fresh. It's not so much the sound-palette which is different to my ears - I have highly unconventional tastes in music and have listened to a lot of free improv, so "unusual" and varied sounds are pretty much normal for me - although admittedly the prevalence of harp on these pieces is a bit of a change from most (not all) of B's previous work; no, the actual musical strategies just feel distinctively different from pretty much anything I have heard from him (or anyone else) before. Once again, it is extraordinarily difficult to try and put this into words - so much so that I'm not even going to attempt it (yet). There are sections of some of the GTM performances which may momentarily sound and feel like this material - but of course GTM always first and foremost sounds like itself. There really is something powerfully innovative about this stuff... I know nothing about it at all, and perhaps for the time being it's better that way. In any case, I'm pressing on with it, even as I continue to mine the back catalogue...

* There's overlap going on in several areas of my daily life at the moment. As regards my musical listening, it's worth noting that the duo album with Reichman also includes Comp. 168, which is collaged into Kobe Van Cauwenberghe's septet reading of Comp. 255...

** That is, the Reichman set definitely includes Comp. 136. The situation as regards the album with Robair is less clear: the master-record for this release on Discogs - relating to the original vinyl on Rastascan - lists Track 3 as being Comp. 134 (+96), whereas the CD entry - and the packaging for the actual Music & Arts CD now in my possession - lists Track 6 as being Comp. 136 (+96). (Actually the CD reissue has a totally different running-order: the two extra cuts are not simply tacked on the end as they usually would be. Indeed the programme opens with a piece new to this reissue. Hmmm.)