Unburied treasure

 

What was I saying about sixteen years ago..? So - it turns out that another October, 2008 event was the release of Mosaic's Braxton box set, collecting all nine* of his albums for Arista on eight remastered CDs... I hadn't remembered that particular month as being when this happened, but I do still remember finding out beforehand that it was going to happen, because I was annoyed about it. The blog was still in its first year at that stage, and was rather more widely read than it is now (... nobody's fault but mine, of course), and having written in considerable detail, and with no shortage of enthusiasm, about four of the albums which were due for inclusion - Montreux / Berlin would follow later -  I felt a bit miffed that nobody was offering me a free copy for my pains. (Sounds ridiculous, I know! But it wasn't just the sulking of a spoiled man-child; I still think I had a fair point, in principle**.)

Anyway, that didn't happen - of course - and in the meantime, I paid less than diligent attention to the set's eventual release since I had no attention of buying it, even if I had had the money for it (which I probably didn't at the time***). Time passes, life happens, and although I continue to catch glimpses of the set's continued life-after-issue in the inflated resale market, I never pay a lot of attention to these either, given that copies only tend to show up for sale in the US - and at prices I'm not prepared to countenance.

And, then, just about a week ago, a UK listing for the set appeared on a well-known internet marketplace, albeit still for £300 (plus postage!! they wouldn't even throw in the shipping without charging for it...) - I still can't justifying spending that sort of money, and even if I could, I wouldn't; but the fact that a copy showed up on this side of the pond was still noteworthy. If there had been another snippet of fleeting news to pair with it, I would probably have posted about it... 

...in the meantime, I had already decided that it was about time for another repertoire post, and after a bit of thought, settled on the Norton & Min album (a rather obscure choice, which is nonetheless currently accessible online). This was partly just because it was easily accessible: I had already dug out my CD-R copy a few months back, while rooting around in search of something else. Still, once I realised that three of the five covers on there were taken from the same album, and that this was an album I hadn't heard in years#, I needed to locate my CD-R copy of Duets 1976 as well; that, because of a bad problem with my lower back which flared up suddenly in the first week of October, was far more challenging than it would normally have been## - but I did manage (on a good day!) to find what I was looking for, only to realise afterwards that I also needed access to my reference copy of Five Pieces 1975, in order to compare the two readings of Comp. 23h...

... but as luck would have it, at almost exactly the same time, I stumbled across a source for a digital version of the Mosaic box. This had nothing to do with my preparation for the post - indeed it probably started out as a distraction from it - and it wasn't until afterwards that it really hit me what I'd got hold of: both of the albums I needed for reference were now suddenly available to me in digital form, after years and years of not having them, and precisely at the point when I'd decided I needed them. This, then, is one of a series of coincidences to crop up over a couple of days last week, all involving the previous post. Another such was already detailed in a footnote to that last post: when I looked properly at my CD-R copy of Duets 1976, I realised it was filed away### with Quartet (Birmingham) 1985 - the only other of B's albums to include a version of Comp. 60. 

But that wasn't all... at the same time as I acquired this new digital treasure chest, I was also gifted another of the few remaining items on my most wanted list: Toronto (Duets) 2007 with Kyle Brenders... this being a double album - like the one in duo with Ben Opie - featuring two long-form all-reed interpretations of GTM pieces... the second of which, in this case, is Comp. 356. My CD-R copy of the Norton & Min album is filed away, very randomly, with another recording I must have acquired at the same time: the 2008 septet performance at the Chiasso festival, featuring... Comp. 356. Oh, and when I listened to this latter disc again (for the first time in ages) in a spare hour, I detected amongst the tertiary material Comp. 6n, which itself was up for consideration as part of the Norton & Min album... all these coincidences were making my head spin a bit by now, coming as they did hard upon one another, although (as I mentioned in another footnote to the previous post) 6n is such a common addition to B's long-form GTM readings that it would almost be more of an event if I hadn't heard it ;-)

This all took place last Tuesday and Wednesday (the post wasn't completed until Thursday 17th, but nearly all of the preparation for it had already been done before then); unable to work as such because of my back, I had unexpected time on my hands and was determined to do something constructive with at least some of it. However, on the Wednesday evening I did have to break off in mid-session to take my daughter to an after-school class; I was deep(ish) in the Composition Notes at this stage, and had just finished reading about Comp. 62. Driving along in near-dark, in pouring rain, still in some pain and not paying any more attention than necessary to my surroundings, I found myself briefly having to stop and give way to a driver on the opposite side of the road: just ahead of me, parked on the street and frozen in my headlights, was a car with the licence plate AB62 xxx^. 

They don't usually come so thick and fast, but synchronicities of this type do frequently attend my work on this blog, and it's one of the reasons why I have no intention of stopping now that I've started again - regardless of how many people do or don't read it at any given time.

Anyway - there, in all the finicky little detail which nobody ever asked for, but which I can always be relied on to furnish, is the story of how and when I finally got hold of the Mosaic/ Arista files after all these years.

***

There's little to be gained by discussing in depth any of the actual music, on this occasion: everyone knows what was included (and if they don't, they can very easily look it up). Some well-loved albums were presented here in their entirety, and in most cases their contents had never previously been available on CD; and indeed technically, almost all of this stuff is still not available in that format, with this box set having long since been deleted^^. But since I'm at it, it's worth just having a look at what was included, and how that was presented to those lucky fans who obtained the box when it was released.

Nine albums on eight CDs, as noted above; these are actually four double-CDs, all with generic packaging, in each case bearing the same cover shot (from one of the recording sessions) as the actual box itself, which was LP-sized and also included a full-sized, twenty-page booklet. This insert, it must be said, is far superior to the usual liner notes: set out with numerous photographs from the sessions, it contains a really detailed, in-depth essay on the music by Mike Heffley, B's ex-student and collaborator (who had previously written a book on the maestro's music^^^); a full track listing for the eight discs, together with the correct opus numbers for each of the tracks, and the graphic titles where appropriate (or composer credits, otherwise), plus a letter in each case designating one of the recording sessions, themselves fully detailed separately; a list of the original LP releases with their catalogue numbers, again cross-referenced into the sessionography (presented here as a discography, which seems slightly misleading); and a note of reminiscence by Michael Cuscuna, the Mosiac mastermind who produced all the original sessions as well as the reissue itself. (This is to be found on the last page of the booklet, accompanied by a photograph of Leroy Jenkins playing violin at B's wedding while B. and Cuscuna, plus other guests, look on; it is a charming postscript to the notes, with MC fondly remembering the maestro's "indomitable work ethic and childlike enthusiasm" as well as his "great sense of humor", and concluding that the "best part" of the project for him was renewing their friendship.) ~

The aspects which don't appeal so much to me personally about the box set would seem to be general to the Mosaic label, rather than specific to this release. I understand the reasoning behind the generic packaging of the individual CDs, but I can't say I like it: the black-and-white aesthetic and basic layout reminds me too much of Black Lion, which all too often came across as "cheap and cheerful~~" - for me, this rather undermines the good work put in by the excellent LP-sized booklet (... in terms of persuading the purchaser that they have acquired something well worth having). The discs themselves are sequenced in a slightly eccentric way, following neither the order of recording date nor of release as such, but rather cramming all the material in so that it fits onto eight CDs, keeping albums together where possible, breaking them up where necessary. The individual discs, as a result, have to be viewed as entirely functional on an individual basis, valuable chiefly as parts of a whole; for example, For Trio is spread across discs three and four, the first version of Comp. 76 closing out disc three (which otherwise contains most - but not all - of Alto Saxophone Improvisations 1979) while the second version appears on disc four, along with For Two Pianos. (Realistically, there was no way of avoiding this kind of thing, and I'm sure some care and attention went into the running order which was eventually chosen; but I can't honestly say I like it much.) Finally, the one specific gripe which I might have regarding this specific reissue would be misplaced, since this was never intended to be "that" kind of project: knowing that in some cases material had to be edited out in preparing the original albums, I can't now help being painfully aware of what's missing. The Montreux set was butchered in order to squeeze it into one and a half sides of vinyl; I can never forget that, in listening to Comp. 40n in particular. But if these live sets were to be restored to their full glory, how much more expensive and complicated would this have been to produce? It was never going to happen.

The remastered sound, it must be said, is absolutely gorgeous for the most part. Even Creative Orchestra Music 1976 - the one album which was previously issued in its entirety on CD, and which I described last year as sounding rather dated, is clear and bright and vibrant here, with the stereo image remarkably well separated (considering how crammed-in the musicians were, for the actual recording sessions - if the photo in the booklet is anything to go by). I have very much enjoyed listening (again) to this material, some of which was intimately familiar already, some of which I hadn't heard in years (it's quite possible that I only heard For Trio once, at least fifteen years ago; and I can't swear that I ever listened to the whole of Comp. 95 before now). Admittedly, even here there is a caveat, since For Four Orchestras was originally recorded - for obvious reasons -  in quadraphonic stereo, not reproduced in this format; some serious mental gymnastics is required on the part of the listener to hear this as the work of four orchestras. But you can't have everything; B. knew damn well that he was pushing his luck by even attempting this project, and Cuscuna and Steve Backer risked the wrath of the record company by seeing it through and releasing it - however briefly - so let's all just be grateful that it even exists.

Overall, I fully understand why this was so eagerly-anticipated by those who preordered it, and I would have to say that Michael Cuscuna in particular did a sterling job with it. Was it worth doing? Definitely. Do I wish I had obtained a proper copy, back in 2008? Probably, yes. Would I now pay three hundred quid for it? Almost certainly not - but hey, who knows what the future may bring ;-)

In memory of Michael Cuscuna (1948 - 2024)

Thanks (as always) to McClintic Sphere

* In his detailed essay, Mike Heffley refers rather to thirteen LPs - which might seem an odd way of looking at it, but is technically correct (Alto Saxophone Improvisations 1979 and The Montreux / Berlin Concerts were both double-LPs, and For Four Orchestras was a 3xLP set). It's still odd, because nobody could have purchased the thirteen records separately, so counting the actual discs seems rather irrelevant - unless Heffley is making the point that the reissue contains all the music presented on the original albums, rather than restoring alternate takes, etc (as is very often the case with this sort of undertaking).

** I genuinely felt that I had done as much as anybody to analyse this music and promote a continued interest in it, and in this regard I still think the point was valid. But although it was not unknown for the blog to be contacted by musicians in the early years - most notably by B. himself, of course - I never had any evidence that my work had come to Michael Cuscuna's attention; and even if it had, would that have been sufficient for Mosaic to send me a copy, gratis? Not in this world, anyway. (One still suspects that even with a project like this, some promotional copies were sent to magazines and radio stations... or, I dunno, maybe not?)

*** I have to say "probably" because I can't remember how much this box set cost at the time. (I do vaguely remember some chat online about preorders - it may even have sold out before it was released.)

# In a footnote to the previous post, I somewhat disingenuously suggested I had no explanation for why I hadn't heard the Duets with Abrams for so long. This is only really true insofar as I hadn't intended to leave it as long as I did, in the end; but I do in fact know why I tend to avoid returning to an album, in the short term, once I've "dealt with it". In case it's not obvious, I tend to make more observations on (various aspects) of a given album or recording than most people would - and, subject to no deadlines or editorial oversight, I am free to leave in as many of them as I wish. Having got down everything I want to say about a particular recording, the last thing I want to do is listen to it again a few days later and immediately start noticing yet more details which I had overlooked..! Returning to an album months or years later - well, that's another matter, and there it's often just a case of getting round to it. With a discography as vast as B's - and so many unofficial recordings besides - it's pretty difficult to get back round to most things, frankly. [One day maybe I'll learn the ancient yogic secret of bilocation, and can just lock myself away and permanently listen to this stuff while continuing to live a separate life elsewhere! Until that time...]

## The second picture in this post from last year helps to explain the problem, but it's actually got worse since then: quite a lot has been added to that right-hand storage unit, and all of the CD-Rs have been shunted down to the sixth and seventh shelves (bottom shelf not even visible). Further clutterage in the room in question doesn't make things any easier; I can move stuff out of the way when I need full access, of course - but not when my back is crocked. I did manage to grab a handful of envelopes off the doorway-end of the sixth shelf, and luckily the one containing Duets 1976 was in that handful. I wasn't about to risk going back for a second - but then, as it turned out, I didn't have to anyway...

### All through the Golden Age of Music Blogging I proceeded thus: as music became available to me in digital form, I burned it to CD-R and then filed away the results, usually two or three discs to an envelope, writing all the details out painstakingly as I did so. (This habit reduced the number of different envelopes, but made it inevitably harder to keep track of what was where, so I also had to create a spreadsheet with a searchable list of all the "extras" in each little package. Sigh...) You would scarcely believe how long I kept up this habit, before I finally gave up and started just archiving the digital files themselves; in most cases - and this was as true of B's material as of anyone else's - once I had burned a CD-R "master" I deleted the mp3 files. It's a pattern I got into and was very reluctant to change. Collectors (of anything) are a weird bunch ;-)

^ xxx in this case stands in for the actual letters, which spelled out the shortened form of my given name. (It's unlikely that anyone reading this will have access to the UK police's car index database - but still, this is someone's actual number plate and it doesn't feel right to give it in its entirety here.)

^^ Mosaic never owned copyright on the vast majority of the stuff they put out; instead they would typically lease it for a finite (short) period, allowing them time to press up limited editions of their sets and sell them, on the understanding that once the licence expired, that was that: the item would be deleted from their catalogue.

^^^ Heffley also recorded his own album of BraxRep, Meditations on Early Braxton, which I will cover on the blog at some point. (Since a key theme of this post is coincidence, it's worth pointing out that said album contains a reading of Comp. 60 - probably: it is actually listed as 60b, which officially doesn't exist, so who knows what it really is. (When I get there, I will endeavour to figure that out...))

~ The digital version which I got hold of - who knows where it originated - also came with two PDF files, one of which appears to be a longer, draft version of Heffley's essay for the booklet, and the other of which is entitled "AB Arista Outtakes" and is - I really don't know quite what it is, but again it appears to be a draft version of that same essay, shorter, and with ellipses covered by the text "[con’t (sic) in Mosaic notes]". Despite being (quite a lot) shorter than the version entitled "Heffley On Braxton Arista Liner", it is actually a larger file - go figure. I honestly have no idea what these are doing there, or whence they were sourced... 

~~ This rather quaint British expression, a bit outdated now, is not to be confused with "cheap and nasty"...