Repertoire redux: Jump or Die

Splatter Trio & Debris  Jump Or Die – 21 Anthony Braxton Compositions 1992

(Music & Arts 1994)

The mention of this terrific album in my "coming attractions" post last month seemed to trigger a brief resurgence of interest in my previous post about it... so this may be an auspicious time for the follow-up.

In my recent post I'd teasingly referred to this album as "the original gold standard", with tongue only slightly in cheek*. After I made a long overdue revisit - which I then followed up with multiple plays, and careful study of the unusually good liner notes - I began to realise how apposite that description truly is. And lest we end up with a room full of elephant, so to speak, I may as well tackle at once the question of how this recording holds up in comparison with the far more recent offering by Thumbscrew... It's not merely the fact that this was an earlier album full of Braxton covers: there are other aspects to this which make the comparison not just obvious, but effectively unavoidable.

As with Thumbscrew later, one of the players involved in this recording had studied with Braxton (actually two - but we'll get to that). The project was not conceived in a vacuum, but was very much planned and executed with B's blessing and encouragement (not to mention his cooperation, in terms of supplying the scores). Finally, and most crucially - and this is an aspect of Jump or Die which seems to be been largely overlooked in the years following its release - a concerted effort was made to premiere unrecorded compositions. When Thumbscrew's album was being prepared, those involved in promoting it made sure that it was known that the focus was on unrecorded works from B's huge back catalogue; I don't remember ever seeing any acknowledgement of the fact that in doing this, they were following in the footsteps of the earlier expedition, but that was in fact very much the case. In going back now to examine the 1994 recording, it would be disingenuous in the extreme to make no mention at all of the 2020 one.

But we'll get to that. In terms of the earlier recording, how did it all come about in the first place? It was, after all, almost certainly the very first full-length recording of B's music in which he himself was not directly involved**. The obvious starting point is with Gino Robair, who had recorded with B. in 1987***, but that meeting was itself presumably possible because Robair had studied under the maestro at Mills. (Robair's Wikipedia entry does not explicitly confirm this, although it does say that he studied at Mills - where his tutors included David Rosenboom# and Larry Polansky## - so the timing appears to work out pretty well. B's connection to the Bay Area scene definitely stems from his time at Mills, of course.) Robair had co-founded Splatter Trio with bassist Myles Boisen and saxophonist Dave Barrett; and this group took its place in the Bay Area scene of the time. Meanwhile, over on the East Coast, a similarly-minded group called Debris had come together, in which reedman Steve Norton was joined by cornettist Keith Hedger, drummer Curt Newton and synth-player/all-round "utility musician" Arthor Weinstein; the two groups were aware of each other###. Norton explains that the project was conceived, if not birthed, during a car journey in October 1991: the two bands had played a concert together in Portland, Maine (quite an undertaking for Splatter!) and, as Norton and Robair drove back to Boston the following day, the pair discussed what a great idea it would be to collaborate on a "Braxton album". In retrospect, this sounds like precisely the sort of great idea which would never come to fruition, not least because of the geographical distances involved (and this was in the days before most people had access to the internet); but somehow, amid many phone calls, the project did gradually take shape. 

As well as enlisting their respective working groups, the two men brought a few special guests along to the party: trombonist Tom Plsek was head of Berklee College's brass department at the time, and was recruited by Norton; Robair called up mallet-percussionist Gregg Bendian and reedman Randy McKean, the latter of whom was known to Robair from San Francisco (although at this time both McKean and Bendian were living in New York). McKean, in turn, is listed in Hazell's notes as being the only player besides Robair who had studied or played with B. [I don't have the details on this; McKean was part of a high-class woodwind section for (what Black Saint released as) 4 (Ensemble) Compositions 1992, but that was definitely later, albeit only by a few months; if McKean also studied at Mills, and this was where he met Robair in the first place, that would make sense - but even so, I'm speculating. Just to provide another connection, though: at the time of Hazell's notes, McKean was leading a quartet including Paul Smoker - whose links to B. were already established, even if the Charlie Parker Project was still in the (near) future at this point.]

So that's how it happened, more or less. As to what happened: over the course of nine tracks, twenty-one of B's pieces are examined, to some degree or another; the personnel varies from one track to the next, with (what must have been) a lot of thought going into the specific voicings in each case. The two New Yorkers are both involved in two of the tracks - which deploy the full ensemble, although Robair acts as conductor rather than player in those cases - and Plsek also joins in with one other number besides, as does McKean. I am absolutely not going to attempt to discuss each track in detail: quite apart from anything else, this recording is so brimming over with creative energy that you could literally play it every day for a month and you'd still be coming across little details you hadn't previously noticed. I am, however, going to run through the tracks in order, unpacking who plays on what - and which pieces were being unveiled for the first time; and having done that, I will place just one of these tracks under the microscope.

1. Comps. 40e (+40d)/Comps. 40p (+69q)/Comp. 40(o)

The "super-medley" which opens proceedings is one of two tracks featuring a core septet (comprising all the players from both groups), and concludes with the craziest reading of (Kelvin repetition structure/Marilyn Crispell fave) Comp. 40(o) that any of us is ever likely to hear. Along the way, there's no shortage of hijinks, such as a middle phase which pits the two bands against each other: Splatter Trio plays 40p and Debris breaks it up with 69q. Before we even get there, we kick off with a premiere recording, the "collapsing march" Comp. 40e - which kind of has to be heard to be believed.

2. Comp. 48

This was also a premiere at the time; and it's described as such in Hazell's notes, but unbeknownst to him, B. must have been inspired by the players' interest in this piece to add it to the book for the reconvened "Forces quartet": it actually ended up as the opener of the Twelve Compositions: Live at Yoshi's album. Still, Music & Arts (which released both CDs) maintained a consistent approach to putting stuff out: the sessions for Jump or Die were recorded in May 1992 for an album issued in 1994; the Yoshi's quartets, recorded over several days in July 1993, ended up being used for a double album in 1995. So Hazell, technically correct to begin with (the piece was indeed "never previously recorded"), was still not wrong by the time he was writing the notes: this version came out first. (I have earmarked Comp. 48 for a comparative post, later on.) The arrangement is for sextet this time: Splatter Trio is joined by Hedger and Newton, plus Plsek (the aforementioned third number on which he appears). Newton plays drums, Robair vibes.

3. Comp. 23d (+108a)

See below.

4. Comp. 50 (+53)

Another premiere: 50 was a graphic score originally developed for two woodwinds (B. and Roscoe Mitchell) and two synthesizers (Richard Teitelbaum and Allan Strange), but was never captured on record. Here, Norton and Barrett take on the former roles, and Robair and Weinstein the latter, with Boisen conducting. This is the one "multi-title" track on the album which is not an authentic collage: when it was discovered that part of the score pointed to a written line which could not then be located, a decision was made to use a small part of 53 instead. (On the face of it this might seem a natural enough substitution: 53, another unrecorded piece, was obviously written around the same time. However, it actually belongs to a completely different set: Comps. 52-4 comprise Three Compositions for Quartet (1976), and 52, despite its being chosen much later to kick off Thumbscrew's album, is very much a previously-recorded piece. Still, that's what these guys decided to use.)

5. Comp. 142

The first of two selections for the full ensemble, though - as noted above - Robair conducts. Hazell's notes detail 142 as being mainly a written-out score, but with an improvised section linking the first and second composed parts. This one is also stated to be a premiere - of sorts: "the first recording of the complete piece". 142 had previously been played at Victoriaville in 1988, by B's very special septet; but it was reduced to encore status, the main event being a heavily collaged rendition of Comp. 141. [It's nonetheless intriguing to note that the (incomplete) version from '88 lasts longer than the "complete" reading here: this, then, is another piece I've earmarked for comparison later.]

6. Comp. 15

The shortest track on the album at 4.17, this is yet another recorded premiere, this time of an early Braxtonian experiment in graphic scores: described by its composer as "three pages of regulated symbolic notation for any four instruments", the piece dates from 1970 and challenges the players to translate visual shapes into music (an early adumbration of B's synaesthesia, no doubt). The four players here are Boisen (on guitar) plus Hedger and Newton, with special guest McKean on clarinet. Robair conducts, again. 

7. Comp. 69L/Comps. 122 (+69i)/Comp. 69d

This is the second of two mega-medleys using mainly (unrecorded) works from the creative ensemble books (all from the fourth series this time), featuring the core septet. Unlike track 1, this time when the players split up they don't do so strictly along "band lines": Barrett and Robair play 69i (Robair using knitting needles), while Boisen joins Debris to play 122. All three 69 series pieces were premiered here; 69d later turned up as one of numerous secondary or tertiary territories on the giant, 92-minute 2001 tentet reading of Comp. 286 (which Robair was very much involved with), whilst 69L has the peculiar distinction of having been covered twice (here and by the Vandermark 5, later) without ever being recorded by B. himself. [Comp. 122, for those who might wonder, dates from the mid-'80s and was recorded in the studio by a substitute "Forces quartet" - Rosenboom in for Crispell - having previously opened the Bloomsbury Theatre show on the famous 1985 UK tour.]

8. Comp. 74c

A duet between the two bandleaders, both Norton and Robair showcasing a variety of instruments over six and a half minutes. Yet another premiere: 74a and 74b were both brought to the studio for B's classic duo encounter with Roscoe Mitchell; 74d and 74e were both later used for the duets with Brett Larner; this "one in the middle" can only be found here.

9. (Comps. 120d + 90)/(Comps. 23c + 133)

This concluding monster-mashup is the second number for the full orchestra, with Robair conducting, and each of the special guests gets his time in the spotlight here - although that is a mixed blessing, as in each case they end up getting somewhat drowned out by the rest of the group. Sharp-eyed readers will also note that unlike trs. 1 & 7 I have not attempted to "correct" the presentation of the title from the way it appears on the album; here it is really not a case of "primary territory plus collage" or anything like that. In a method which (as far as I know) was never actually used by B. himself, the first two pieces very nearly begin simultaneously. What actually happens is that Plsek begins playing 120d alone^, and the rest of the group starts playing 90 almost at once; the latter piece is, says Hazell, "a graphic score primarily concerned with manipulating dynamics", and what this means in practice is that Plsek becomes effecively inaudible at times, until the ensemble pauses. The trombonist nevertheless ploughs on gamely, providing the eventual link to the next collage, wherein McKean and Bendian undertake a straight reading of the additive repetition-structure 23c while the rest of the players tackle another graphic score^^, 133. Again, this ultimately rises to such a tempestuous crescendo that the two guests are largely engulfed. The overall impression, however, of this piece is that it's extraordinarily effective. - Hazell claims that everything here with the (obvious) exception of 23c is a premiere recording, but for once he's not quite right about that: 120d was played by George Lewis as part of the collage structure on Comp. 141, the main performance at Victoriaville in 1988. 

***

The  rundown above does little more than explicate the details of who plays what and when, and which of the pieces are being presented for the first time (lots of them). It also highlights just how much work and preparation went into this project, and just how much music was shoehorned into it. (The ensemble takes full advantage of the CD format to squeeze in seventy-seven minutes of music, and not one of those minutes drags.) You can probably also see now why I would not attempt a full-tissue dissection of the whole album.

What I will do is describe in detail the third track, a most unusual take on the modern standard Comp. 23d^^^. The astounding creativity and imagination brought to bear on this piece can absolutely be taken as emblematic of the album as a whole.

Arranged for quartet, in traditional fashion, the third number features Norton, Robair, Boisen and Newton; the latter sticks to the trap set exclusively, whilst the others change axe at least once, during the course of these eight and a half minutes. (Boisen actually uses a guitar/bass guitar doubleneck.) As you can see from the title listed at 3. above, some collaging is factored in by way of the pulse track structure Comp. 108a, but really the wildest activity takes place before that secondary material even starts. 

The number begins almost conventionally, with the quartet just playing the familiar written theme totally straight - it's just unconventional instrumentation, with Norton on baritone sax and Robair on vibes, Boisen loping away on the bass neck of his twin-headed beast; but the second the group finishes with the written section of the piece, we are instantly in far out territory. Norton picks a note and - drills his way right into it and through it, twisting and varying his attack, switching between the "true" note and the higher harmonic attained via controlled overblowing, sustaining this for over a minute - while Boisen and Newton fling themselves around and Robair's ghostly vibes add another dimension to the sound. Focus in on this stuff and you can really be transported, the band immediately finding so much space inside the music that by the time Norton lays out and Robair tears into a frenzied solo with his mallets, it's hard to believe there's less than three and a half minutes on the clock. As the fourth minute ends, Norton returns on bass clarinet, and in due course Boisen switches to guitar, and Robair finally to his toy piano (which might look ridiculous in a verbal description, but is startlingly effective in practice, precisely for being so unexpected). Somehow, in the maelstrom of sound, Norton never completely loses touch with the flavour of the theme, finding phrases which recall the written contours even amidst all the contained chaos.

The storm gradually subsides, and in the relative lull which follows, the trace elements of 108a appear. Around 6.55, Boisen (back on bass for this) and Newton begin playing the pulse track for real, even as the 23d theme returns, this time voiced by Norton and Robair on bass clarinet and mandolin - the kind of undreamt-of pairing which must have simply delighted the maestro when he heard it. As we're back to the written score, there are no more surprises as such, just smiles from ear to ear at how skilfully the quartet closes this out in such an unanticipated fashion. You will probably never hear a more imaginative interpretation of this piece than the one which these guys laid down more than thirty years ago. As I say, it perfectly sums up the unfettered creativity and total commitment to the music which was brought to this extraordinary meeting.

***

Most of Jump or Die was recorded in Arthor Weinstein's living room - albeit by a professional engineer, Peter Kontrimas - and although it would be quite unjust to say that it sounds like it (it doesn't; one would never know), this is the one aspect in which the much later Thumbscrew album, with its startlingly beautiful sound, is demonstrably the superior recording. In all other respects, I'm sorry, but the later album falls short of the bar already set, a quarter of a century earlier - so much so, really, that it's not even truly fair to compare them. It's also not strictly necessary: any friendly experiencer with more than a passing interest in B's music will find much to enjoy about Thumbscrew's album. But if for some inexplicable reason it came down to a choice of only one album of Braxton repertoire to take a desert island... there is only one winner.

Here's why: Jump or Die saw a group of enthusiasts hurdle all manner of barriers, logistically speaking, to put together a set of readings of scores the majority of which none of them had seen before - and the results, as confirmed by Norton in a brief explanatory note, "exceeded all (his) expectations". They set the bar insanely high, yet cleared it by miles. [I've already done to death my conclusions on the later album - and I'm not bringing them up again.] Musically speaking this album set a "games record" so seemingly untouchable... that it's not greatly surprising if no mention of it was made when the later trio release was being promoted. 

It is nonetheless possible to reach a similar level, as it eventually transpired...

[This post was originally conceived as a way into a series of articles about repertoire, and it still is that; only, since then, I have expanded my short-term plans for blog posts to such an extent that this is now just one of several such lines of development. Other posts of this nature will follow, therefore, but I can't make any promises as to when..!]

* The play on words was not intended, although not unnoticed either... in that ideal world I'm always banging on about, at least some of this material would be regarded as standards by now. (Oh, and see my final footnote below...)

** This is the supposition made by Ed Hazell in his liner notes, and although I "should probably" be able to confirm or disprove it at this point, I wouldn't want to be definite about it; but I can't think of anything earlier, anyway. Can you?

*** I wrote a bit about this album last year, when I heard it for the first time; it's definitely something I shall be coming back to, in these pages.

# Pianist/keyboardist/educator/etc Rosenboom worked with B. on multiple occasions, including - as mentioned above in my notes on tr. 7 - filling in for the absent Marilyn Crispell when B. took his quartet into the studio in 1986.

## Polanksy, on the other hand, is someone I had to look up - although the name did sound familiar. I realised in due course it's because I've seen it in the discography, as the creator of an album called The Theory of Impossible Sound - which (apparently) includes a track incorporating a five-second sample of B's playing (!). This was indeed recorded at Mills, which will obviously have been where he made B's acquaintance. However, he is actually of far greater significance to us friendly experiencers as the founder of the Frog Peak publishing house - which has issued, among other things, B's Composition Notes and Tri-Axium Writings. 

### Debris did release an album - Terre Haute, with guest Andrew D'Angelo - on Robair's Rastascan Records, but that only came out in 1993, the year after the Jump or Die sessions; mind you, it could quite possibly have been recorded earlier.

^ Hazell's notes describe Comp. 120d as "a duet for horn and dancer... one of Braxton's most evocative scores"; and never mind the purely-subjective second part of that quote, I can neither confirm nor deny the first part, since the Composition Notes do not quite go that high in the numbering, and Restructures did not have any detail on the piece either. The graphic title is reproduced on the album, and we'll have to take ... Presumably, there exist Comps. 120a-c as well, and who knows how many others in that series, but until someone with proper access to the scores can shed light on this, the details must remain shrouded in mystery... ADDENDUM: see fourth comment to this post.

^^ Again, I have to take Hazell's word for this, but there is no reason to doubt him: scores were sourced directly from B. himself by McKean, who made the journey up to Connecticut for specifically that purpose; and either Hazell got a look at these, or a very good account of them was given to him by the players. [Incidentally, the fact that B. was unable to locate part of the score for Comp. 50 (see notes for tr. 4 above) gives a further hint as to how the sort of confusion I have harped on about recently might have come about in the first place. And that's where I'll leave that, for now...]

^^^ There, I said it! Look, I've been saying for years to anyone who'd listen (not many people, admittedly) that 23d, above all, deserves to have been absorbed into the wider jazz canon by now. And I think it just about has been: for example, tenor sax player Fred Hess (who was too mainstream to figure on my radar, and is indeed only known to me at all because of his tangential presence's in B's discography) recorded the tune not once but twice - even if he seemed confused as to what it was called. I suspect there may be a few jazzers out there who even recognise the theme without necessarily knowing that it's one of B's. I'm calling it XD