No, not that John Lennon! But this one also does wonders with a guitar as this collection devoted to his solo guitar music reveals. It was hard to zero in on a personal fave here, and I still haven’t—but this otherworldly fantasy consisting entirely of guitar harmonics is undoubtedly one of the most enticing pieces of earcandy in this musical confectioner’s paradise.
—FJO
One of my favorite moments of musical glee, San Francisco-style—no, not smoking pot with my professors—was a gig where clarinetist Matt Ingalls paired up with laptop renaissance man Tim Perkis. Absent was that familiar chime of the Mac OS software powering up, and the ritualized moistening of reeds. Instead, both musicians played violins, by the sound of things maybe for the first time in their entire life. Malcolm Goldstein isn’t afraid to sound just as ugly, but his approach is hardly so nihilistic. Goldstein’s ability to approach his instrument from equal parts naïveté and virtuosity only widens his sonic vista. He morphs from 7-year-old to 70-year-old in a blink of an eye. Keeping up with his shape shifting is part of the fun. Hmm. Is there a possible violin trio in our future?
—RN
I recently met the legendary jazz drummer Louie Bellson, now 82, at the ASCAP I Create Music Expo in Hollywood, and his wife handed me this CD. Like everyone else who’s a jazz fan, I’ve always been awed by Bellson’s percussion work—no less an authority than Duke Ellington, with whom Bellson played for many years, called him “the world’s greatest drummer”—but this little prepared me for my encounter with Bellson the composer. In the first of the two substantive works featured on the disc, The Sacred Music of Louie Bellson, composed and recorded in 2000 but only now released commercially, Bellson follows in the tradition of Ellington who composed three sacred concerts toward the end of this career. Like the Ellington works, this somewhat amorphous and somewhat untitled work in 14 sections incorporates a chorus and a jazz big band to which Bellson adds a string orchestra for good measure. But my favorite section is the all-instrumental opening movement, “Lightning and Thunder,” in which a tempestuous vision of the creation of the world is conjured up by the big band with quite a bit of help from Bellson’s own remarkable drum solo.
—FJO
This is the sort of record we like to sit back and have the “Is this new music?” debate over. Any yes or no answer to the question is fairly pointless, of course, but the debate it can generate usually gets so loud we attract the attention of the entire office. DJ Logic’s tracks are tricky, and I’d find myself equally comfortable taking up either side. Creative integration of myriad folk and pop sounds and phrases? Yup, it’s practically Bartók. But can “new music” make use of hand claps under any circumstances, especially if said hand claps induce the listener to foot tapping and hip swaying? DJ Logic usually get toasted for bringing jazz into the hip-hop tent, and if you want new music pedigree, he’s been spotted on stage with luminaries of the Downtown scene, most notably Medeski, Martin and Wood. “Balifon Planet” is a mash of samples, scratches, and beats and because of that you could call it a lot of things, but I’m going to call it new music—if of the popular, many record-selling sort.
—MS
The National Association of Composers/USA brings us down yonder to the musical fields of Texas, Kentucky, Illinois, Florida, and more with their newest CD, Greetings from NACUSA. Though the overall impression might be somewhat inaccessible to the new music novice, the CD celebrates American composers off the beaten track with inspired, even techno-esque, compositions. And one Floridian displays a knack for combining the oriental zheng with the all-American saxophone, a creative highlight on this musical journey.
—AR
It’s official. Pure and simple beauty is back, maybe even with a vengeance. Lou Harrison, Ned Rorem, heck, even Lowell Liebermann stuck to their aesthetic guns long enough to endure the tidal waves of postmodernism and new complexity, not to mention that tsunami known as serialism, and their brand of lyricism, aimed directly at the heart—thankfully restraining some of that over-the-top neo-romantic drama—seems to be the predominant trend in composition these days. This shift crosses generation gaps and geography: Downtown is dead (or moved to find cheaper rents). Take note, there’s a new name in the insurgency for beauty camped out in Louisville, Kentucky. It’s Jeremy Beck. His Sonata No. 3 for cello and piano is stripped naked: melody, harmony, rhythm. These are the only ingredients that really matter inside this realm of everything pretty. Then there’s the push and pull as the music surfs that blurry cusp between heartfelt and overwrought. But don’t worry, Beck won’t be partying with John Tesh, Yanni, or the guys from Shadowfax anytime soon.
—RN
Though Vijay Iyer and Rudresh Mahanthappa are floating on a decade-long history of collaboration, their self-titled Raw Materials release is the first recorded project the relationship has generated. The bulk of this disc is dedicated the suite Sangha: Collaborative Fables, and though they ping-pong the writing credits back and forth, these are clearly two musical minds in sync. “Remembrance,” as the title implies, marks one of the more introspective portions of the work. Iyer’s running piano lines ferry the listener though from start to finish, with Mahanthappa’s alto sax stepping in to highlight portions of the score with more brilliant colors and textures. Neither man seems inclined to show off for the microphone; rather, the sparks come from the exponential level of energy they rise to create in the space in between them.
—MS
Be forewarned: I’m among those who know in their heart of hearts that Brain Ferneyhough is a god. Of course I’m also an atheist—who isn’t in New York City these days?—so gods aren’t necessarily infallible deities. I was the only one in the office here who missed Ferneyhough’s Shadowtime at the Lincoln Center Festival, but as luck would have it, the BBC was present to record a performance across the pond at the English National Opera. Now with the music rustling around in my headphones, for the life of me I can’t see why there was such a fuss over the very fact alone that Ferneyhough composed an opera. It sounds like a regular ol’ opera to me: high voices, lots of vibrato. Maybe a little more feisty and overdramatic than most, but wait, isn’t opera in general just a little bit over the top? Granted, most operas don’t have an extended, unruly piano solo in the middle of them performed by, according to the opera’s synopsis, a “Liberace-like singer in a Las Vegas piano bar.” Thankfully there’s no creed against writing complex music with a sense of humor.
—RN
Just when you thought you knew what new music was supposed to sound like, it suddenly ceased to be new music. Corey Dargel is a difficult one to compartmentalize on the pop-nonpop divide. His songs are further proof that there really shouldn’t be and ultimately aren’t such divides for people doing some of the most vital music right now. So forget about whether this is a pop song or a ‘pop song’ trope by a downtown experimental composer. We’ve even been there before: don’t forget Robert Ashley, Eve Beglarian, or Mikel Rouse to name a few; or Beck, Prince, or the Fiery Furnaces to name a few others who are just as worthy. So when “Gay Cowboys,” which could easily ride the wave of post-Brokeback Mountain gay-positive messages in the mainstream media to become a number one hit single on the pop charts, don’t say, “I told you so, it’s pop music.” Instead, celebrate the fact that something comprised of so many intricate, interwoven compositional layers can get on the charts. (P.S. Full disclosure: Not only am I thrilled that Corey has written an article for NewMusicBox, I’m also hosting his next concert appearance in New York City at Cornelia Street Café on May 22. If it’s too late to book a flight, at least buy the CD!)
John Harbison gives his 1980 work for mezzo-soprano and piano, Mottetti di Montale, a makeover on his newest CD with the Collage New Music under music director David Hoose. The work, based on the poetry of Eugenio Montale, is here transformed into a 56-minute piece for chamber ensemble broken up into four books (20 tracks total). Montale’s somber stories of lost love are set in Italy; think empty gondolas and lonely Italian streets. Two mezzo-sopranos, Janice Felty and Margaret Lattimore, split up the role of Clizia, Montale’s heroine and literary muse. They bring intensity and precision to this creation without being harsh. Somehow the two manage to match each other well enough that the changeover is hardly noticeable, yet their performances retain individuality. The nine-piece chamber ensemble adds layers and depth to the piano version, highlighting Harbison’s sophisticated style and talent for wholesome wind writing.
—AR
