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Incursion.org > Archive > Music Review 71 1 September 2003
With the arrival of August, everything seemed to slow down, nearly to a point of standstill. When asked a question, sometimes I would find it difficult to formulate an answer; when the sun would rise, I was slow to get out of bed; the sunlight would beat down and the humidity would rise with little mercy; the evenings were cool and lazy; and, through all of this, nothing seemed to get done. Sitting at my desk, the ceiling fan above my head spinning in full force, I would often attempt to write—a review, a story, an essay, or even a sentence, a question—without much success, the laziness of the day in those moments overcoming my desire to express any thoughts that had been crossing my mind, content to have them simply exist, ruminating, turning, then fading as others would arrive in their stead. And so I would often turn to music, something that would allow me to be silent and thoughtful, that had no other demand of me than to listen, which can be a considerable demand, to be sure, but somehow more conducive to my summer lethargy than the demand to be articulate in action or deed. Still, a few words managed to be written, and somehow the month disappeared faster than I had imagined. _ One of the first new releases I turned to was Shrine/Nest by Minamo, out on Mr. Mutt Records as the latest instalment in their CDR Live Series (MLive03). Minamo was first formed in 1999 as a collaboration between Keiichi Sugimoto and Tetsuro Yasunaga. Two years later they were joined by Yuichiro Iwashita (guitar) and Namiko Sasamoto, and since then have gone on to release a handful of CDs and CDRs on labels like Apestaartje, 360 Records, Cubic Music and Quakebasket. This new disc presents two concerts recorded late in 2002, Tokyo. Combining electronics with guitar, piano, perhaps even other instruments (none are listed, but a few others could be suspected), Minamo have created two long, beautiful pieces of quiet minimalism, progressing slowly, carefully, every sound or combination of sounds as confident as the last. My impressions, growing ever more involved and multifaceted, could only be articulated indirectly, even as I listened for a second, third and fourth time; and even now, closing in on September, as these words find their way out of me and onto these pages. _ Quietly, gently, there are sounds falling on the silence like leaves falling on the ground in autumn; soon enough, the silence disappears to reveal new combinations, presences in the sound space, just as the ground is suddenly covered in a blanket of yellow leaves, and with quiet wonder you observe the sun's rays illuminating the scene and everything seems new, tranquil, impossibly clear. _ One morning, I walked over to my car and discovered that it had been broken into during the night. The thieves were professional, in my view, and courteous too, since they managed to unlock the doors without causing a single scratch. But, alas, they still made off with all the CDs I had been collecting in there, about 10 or 12 at most, and nothing else was missing or damaged, so in the end it was just a nuisance that was best left ignored, to be taken lightly as a mere inconvenience. One of those CDs was the latest release from Books on Tape, the ongoing project by Todd Drootin who has been busy with a number of recent releases crowding the shelves of late. Sings the Blues, out on the No Type label (IMNT 088), is not a blues record, to be sure. It's energy is incessantly high; right from the first moments, the hard, up-tempo, almost aggressive rhythms build your energy up to a raw, inexplicable high. Like a climax in a heist film, Henry Mancini's music blaring wildly with jazz touches; but this isn't Mancini, and there is no jazz touch here: it's all electro, all pounding rhythms and simple, energetic melodies, from start to finish. If my copy wasn't stolen, I couldn't say how often I would return to this music, but it was great company for a few hi-speed car chases. _ And then there was Schematic's re-release of Internal Combustion (SCH033), a collection of mostly solo improvisations for percussion by Glen Velez. Originally released in 1985, it quickly became a classic for percussion enthusiasts, performers, and those generally interested in trance drumming and innovative performance techniques. Focusing his attention on various frame drums from around the world (Doira, Adufe, Bendir, Riq, Gaval and Bodhran), and joined on a few tracks by fellow percussionist Layne Redmond, Velez skilfully constructs his subtle and nuanced pieces—although some sections are laced with new-age overtone singing which failed to win my favour—unfolding before our ears and, if you're playing it loud enough, our bodies too, to a close look at the very nature of the drum through rhythm and performance; the drum and the man, intoxicating, unstoppable, the rhythms passing through us like waves of the sea. _ And, once more, I slipped into a state of lethargy, the sun beating down on my tired eyes, my mind racing with memories, anticipations, in thoughtless wonder. _ Then, as if in answer to my midsummer laziness comes a fresh batch of reviews from Andy Beta, a trusted contributor to these pages for some time. Here's what he had to say about the latest three instalments in the Met Life location sound series on Locust Music (instalments 3, 4 and 5, respectively):
_ One day, the city's electricity disappeared in a massive blackout. The news agencies were already calling it "The Big Blackout of 2003" before it was even over, and, while finding their way in the dark, everyone in the city walked out of their homes and into the streets—many, it seemed to me, for the first time in years—gazing at the stars or taking in the strange sight of a city suddenly plunged in darkness. The bars were the first establishments to fill up with patrons, and the last to empty out after it was all over. _ Then later, two more reviews from Andy found their way to my inbox, the first of Roger Doyle's Rapid Eye Movements, made available for the first time in 20 years in this re-release by the Silverdoor label (SIDO 013).
Andy's second review from that afternoon takes a look at the latest release by Scorces, Vivre avec la bête, out on Eclipse Records:
_ A slight breeze passed through the open window frame and touched on my face as I woke, the day beckoning me from my sleep. But my eyes opened only to find the room to be empty of any furniture, any windows, any doors, no objects at all could be found in my gaze, now turning wildly from side to side. I was dreaming, of course, so, realizing this,I closed my eyes and returned to what I wished would be a lifetime of nothing but sleep and lazy days. _ But why all this ranting about August and the laziness of summer? As you are reading this, the temperature is already falling, the leaves already changing in colour, the air carrying with it the scent of autumn, arriving, or having just arrived in the later days of September, and with it comes so many memories, a season for nostalgia, for enjoying your solitude as much as the company of others, a time when the activity of summer settles into a certain sobriety, as you turn to your next project, a little wiser, a little older, another season come and gone. [Richard di Santo]
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The Incursion Music Review was published and edited by Richard di Santo from 2000 to 2004. All 75 issues can be accessed in the archive. Please note that we are no longer accepting submissions or promotional material for review. Please credit Incursion.org and the author when quoting from any content on this site.
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