This Brooklyn band makes a sacrament out of volume, repetition and noise. Their latest, Each One Teach One, has a deliriously overdriven surface that shimmers with waves of tube-smoking color. The guitar and keyboard riffs are so thick and repetitive they nearly project holograms out of the speakers. Each One Teach One's first disc is a two-song endurance test which, if you can stick with it, will reset your mind and transform your day. But the second disc features seven shorter tunes and is the better place to start. If I had to make the choice, I'd say it's probably my favorite record of the year. Deliriously good.
Steve Lantner, Saying So (Riti)
So Joe Morris' Riti label released two CDs this year, and they're both here on this list. Morris himself is on both of them, but playing different instruments! On Saying So, a piano trio record, he makes his recording debut on the double bass. The guitarist's bass playing is full of grit and sweat, but though we can trace some larger craggy notes with our ears, he still manages to obfuscate himself -- sometimes worrying his patterns under cover of piano and drums, sometimes playing fast enough, even on the mammoth instrument, to cause hearing to blur. He has to be commended for his pluck (sorry) and strength. But, as great as Morris is on this record, Lantner (piano) and Laurence Cook (drums) are even more impressive. Lantner's playing, while completely free, shows a deep, nearly cellular, mastery of form and balance. He seems to have one eye (or ear) at all times focused on the maintenance of equilibrium between all musical opposites (loud/soft, dense/light, etc.), while the majority of his attention is set on the most exquisite of improvised musical narratives. His tone is round and warm and his playing, even at its most forceful, is unerringly elegant. Cook, a drummer of great subtlety and taste, is uncannily matched to the pianist, and the combination is at times revelatory. Lantner is a great talent, and Saying So is an essential document of his rising star.
Deerhoof, Reveille (5RC/Kill Rock Stars)
San Francisco's art-rock quartet Deerhoof applies an internal logic to the construction of their music, building songs out of the simplest little melodies and turning them over and inside out with the ease of classical music composers. But classical they ain't. They probably have the hardest, most finely honed sound of the heaviest bands on this list -- including Oneida and Hot Snakes. Reveille is the sound of immensely talented and inspired musicians operating without any restrictions of convention. At times frightening, disorienting, and sweet, Reveille is an essential and vitally genre-less record.
Patto, Patto / Hold Your Fire (Arkama) Reissued in 2002(originally released 1970 and 1971)
Bruce, the owner of the excellent New York record store Downtown Music Gallery, put "Money Bag" from the 1970 album Patto on the shop's stereo for me this fall, telling me I wasn't going to believe the guitar player. I was sufficiently amazed to buy the reissues of the group's first two albums and sing their praises to anyone who would listen for the rest of the year. I won a few converts. You might know their tune "Gone is the Sad Man" from the second Nuggets box -- though they were called Timebox at the time. In perfect Spinal Tap style, the band left the more flowery stuff behind with the '60s, toughened up, and named the band after the lead singer. Both reissue albums are excellent blasts of '70s rock and roll -- I like to say a la Bad Company -- but, and it's a significant 'but', with a decidedly progressive-jazz edge. Guitar player Olly Halsall, in addition to being Andy Partridge's favorite guitar player, is an early 70s anomaly -- the guy has more chops than Eddie Van Halen. And Mike Patto, despite demerits for some era-typical oversexed lyrics, sings about the hard rock and roll lifestyle with world weary soul and a sandpapery voice as compelling as Bon Scott's. They're utterly unique in 70s British hard rock -- and well worth seeking out for fans of the genre and open-minded folk of all kinds.
Beachwood Sparks, Make the Cowboy Robots Cry (Sub Pop)
This excellent EP followed pretty hot on the heels of 2001's Once We Were Trees, which was obsessively hitched to the spectre of Gram Parsons. It daunted all of my attempts to penetrate it with wave after wave of reverb-drenched anachronisms. Sometime around that album's recording sessions, singer Chris Gunst guested on former Strictly Ballroom bandmate Jimmy Tamborello's excellent Dntel album Life Is Full of Possibilities. Tamborello returned the favor by lending his subtle sonic interference to Cowboy Robots, and he brings in a more genuine psychedelia than what the band had attained previously. The Sparks' Cosmic American influences are still intact, but they've remembered that the featured dimension of that music was expansion. The arrangements are lopsided and creative and the hooks come at you from unexpected angles. The band allows the tunes to unfold slowly -- an approach that begs a degree of patience that many post-punk rock listeners may not have. Too bad for them if they don't -- it's a great EP -- slow and sleepy and worth its time.
Björkenheim/Håker Flaten/Nilssen-Love, Scorch Trio (Rune Grammofon)
Only in sitting down to write this appreciation have I realized what I think is just so remarkable about Raoul Björkenheim -- the guitarist is the musician that reminds me most of Miles Davis. Or rather, he has that rare quality that Miles had of making you feel the space and tension around the notes. This is no small thing. The recently transplanted New York (via LA and Finland) guitarist is perhaps best known, if he is known at all here, for fronting the defunct noise-jam band Krakatau. This Scorch Trio disc features the young and in-demand rhythm section of Ingebrigt Håker Flaten on bass and Paal Nilssen-Love on drums. Björkenheim runs the gamut of his eclectic interests on the album, exploring those sides of his musical personality obsessed with percussive texture (he taps and scrapes at his effects-processed guitar like it’s a steel drum in "XXX") and ambient noise in "Sade". These approaches are in addition to what I consider his preeminent stylistic venue (because it's my favorite!) -- which is that of the (relatively) traditional soloist over a flailing rhythm section. This happens on a few tracks on the CD: "Salaa", "Taajus", and most notably, on the stunning lead-off track "Oikosulku". The rhythm section sets up a tsunami of a groove that is a delight in itself, but when the guitarist enters after the three-minute mark, the sparks truly fly. He spits his notes out over the tumult with such blessed precision, patience and grit, that the sound is like, if we can compare it at all, Miles Davis playing with the Tony Williams Lifetime.
Hot Snakes, Suicide Invoice (Swami)
The general gist in the press has been that Hot Snakes don't live up to the
high standards of John Reis' and Eric Froberg's former band Drive Like
Jehu,
and so Suicide Invoice is simply dismissed as second rate. Whether
or
not it's true I can't say –- Jehu's Yank Crime was just re-issued
and
I've only heard excerpts so far. But the fact is that Suicide
Invoice
is one of the best releases of 2002, no matter what Hot Snakes members have
done before. Though it may be that hype is the most valuable commodity in
today's hysterical music press, I'll take talent, myself -- and Hot Snakes
boasts, in John Reis and Rick Froberg, a dual guitar front line that's as
good as any. I mean including the ones in Television, Captain Beefheart's
Magic Band (circa Clear Spot), and AC/DC. But on top of that, the
band (and the sound of the record) is fierce – and they bang out their
eastern-tinged riff rockers with blessed abandon. The toughest and
greasiest
rock on this list.
Joe Morris, Age of Everything (Riti)
Morris, after a detour into acoustic steel string guitar on last year's
solo
set Singularity, is back behind his trusty Les Paul for this trio
date released for his own Riti label. And he's again churning out his
incredible streams of notes and playing so fast that he seems to beat time.
His partners, Timo Shanko (bass) and Luther Gray (drums), serve the music
well, providing a springy rumble for the guitarist to dive into and over as
he chooses. When you've got musicians as good as these, and as experienced
in this kind of free environment, it's hard not to be pulled into their
process, provided you're willing to listen with open ears. Listening can be
a discipline in itself when it comes to music like Morris' (and other music
on this list like Oneida's). The rewards will be commensurate with the
skills that you bring. Sinking into Age of Everything is probably
akin to what other disciplines call meditation – a thought that's only
occurred to me because I've come through listening to it (and music like
it)
feeling quieter and sharper.
Love, Four Sail (Elektra) Reissued in 2002 (originally released 1969)
Some 14 years after digital technology made the compact disc the music
industry standard, we're still seeing old LPs transferred to the medium for
the first time. In some cases it seems that there are some barrel bottoms
being scraped -- I could name a number of utterly superfluous 'lost
classic'
releases this year alone -- and some blatant attempts to make a few more
bucks off of re-packaged, re-mastered, re-whatevered back catalog before
the
CD is usurped by the DAD in the next, oh, five years or so. Other cases are
real head-scratchers, like this 1969 Love album, which was released for the
first time on CD this year. Some of the material has been available on the
Love Story 1966-1972 compilation, but that release misses the best
song on Four Sail, "I'm With You", and some other great ones, like
"Nothing". This album, Love's last for Elektra, was released after the
disintegration of the original lineup, whose output had culminated with the
masterpiece Forever Changes the year before. Lee's professional
resilience (compellingly chronicled in the Four Sail liner notes) is
remarkable, but more importantly, his creativity was as confidently alight
for these sessions as it was on the band's more heralded releases. Lee was
(maybe is – he's out there touring right now) a distinct rock n roll
genius.
And Four Sail is some of his best work.
Matthew Shipp, Nu Bop (Thirsty Ear)
2002 saw an amazing run of great releases from the small Thirsty Ear
label's
Blue Series. Though the series features some fairly traditional releases,
like William Parker's Raining on the Moon (see below), the meat of
it
is concerned with an innovative blend of jazz and electronic production.
That is to say that they're not concerned with there mere adoption of
electronic instruments -- since, of course, exploration on that front began
in 1967 or thereabouts with Miles Davis -- but some Blue Series releases
are
incorporating the multi-layered pre- and post- production electronic
techniques usually only encountered in cutting-edge hip-hop and
electronica.
Nu Bop, which was released in January, is for my money the one that
strikes the best balance between innovation and grooviness to date. It's
also the most fiercely rocking of the bunch.
Iron and Wine, The Creek Drank the Cradle (Sub Pop)
It's been noted with some wonder in the press that Sam Beam, the Floridian
who wrote, performed and recorded these beautiful songs, is a
cinematography
teacher -- as if it's utterly remarkable that a college teacher could be so
soul-bearingly creative. Beam's music is a kind of soft rock, back woods
folk that he records with multi-tracked acoustic guitars, a banjo and his
layered, nearly whispered, harmony vocals. It's part Crosby Stills & Nash,
part Simon and Garfunkel, and part Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk
Music. The entire album deals with romantic loss and is remarkable for its
consistent beauty and eerie, intimate atmosphere. It sounds as if he
recorded it late at night so quietly as not to wake the family or stir too
many ghosts. The Creek Drank the Cradle is eerie and incantory --
and
will resonate in your inner swampland.
Greg Osby, Inner Circle (Blue Note)
Of Greg Osby's long recording career, Inner Circle is the zenith.
It's also one of the best albums that the storied Blue Note label has put
out in years. There are no guest artist frills, no flashy 'new direction'
or
tribute concepts -- just a solid hour of hard-driving jazz. Between the
rhythmically challenging music and the choice of instrumentation (standard
saxophone-led quartet with vibes), there's a direct line back to Osby
mentor
Andrew Hill's 1964 Blue Note date Judgment. But Osby's got his own
thing. His tunes are harder-edged and math obsessed, and his playing is
unlike any other alto saxophonist's in the music. His phrasing is as
effortless and soulful as can be, but the content of his lines evinces an
idiosyncratic harmonic concept. Also, Blue Note's engineers have done a
great job capturing the music -- this is a richly hued band, and their
sonic
depth is well captured on this CD.
Blossom Toes, We Are Ever So Clean (Polygram Japan) Reissue 2002 (originally released 1968)
A Japanese import of this largely forgotten piece of British psychedelic
lunacy turned up in record stores around New York late this past summer.
The
Blossom Toes had a ticket to the big-time in that they were under the care
of famed rock impresario Georgio Gomlesky (of Rolling Stones and Yardbirds
fame) when they recorded this, their debut, in 1967 for Gomelsky's
Marmalade
label. But the Toes never made a dent in the charts, despite fantastic pop
tunes like "Telegram Tuesday". It could be that they were too weird. Even
some of the poppier numbers like "I'll Be Late for Tea" were oddly arranged
and a little 'off', and then there's the music hall dementia of "The
Remarkable Saga of the Frozen Dog". But what set their very frilly brand of
psychedelic pop apart from the pack was the musically adventurous and
unusual writing of band leaders Brian Godding and Jim Creegan, whose songs
take catchy melodies on unusual and unpredictible turns. The combination of
Beefheart cum Pete Townshend guitars and lovely studio orchestration is
another startling feature. An awesome album, presented in unimpeachable
sonic richness on this reissue. Personally, I find it to be up there with
the better albums from 1968 -- and that was a particularly great year for
music.
William Parker, Raining on the Moon (Thirsty Ear)
Parker is something like the mayor of the downtown New York jazz scene. Since the
start of his career in the late seventies, he's played with most of the
names in jazz and improvised music, and has held positions in some of the
more storied groups of the last 20 years, including those of Cecil Taylor
and David S. Ware. He's also a composer and bandleader of broad scope; in
the past few years he's released albums by his big band, an album of duets
with drummer Hamid Drake, and what might be called his hard-bop group,
which
was featured on 2000's O'Neil's Porch and now Raining on the
Moon. Not one to rest on past accomplishments, Parker augmented the
critically acclaimed O'Neil's Porch group (Hamid Drake on drums, Rob
Brown on flute and alto sax, and Lewis Barnes on trumpet) with soulful
singer and relative newcomer Leena Conquest. The result is an album of
great
beauty and power. Parker and Drake, are, as usual, a rhythm team that's a
wonder to behold: interlocked and churning, and with an empathy that's so
palpable it's heartwarming. Brown and Barnes are bold and declamatory, and
Conquest's voice is all warm hues and flashes of history -- from Billie
Holiday through Abbey Lincoln -- that makes one feel enveloped by a rich
and
living ancestry.
And here are those additional 2002 releases of note:
New Rock (etc.): Of Montreal, Aldhils Arboretum on Kindercore; Town
and Country, C'Mon on Thrill Jockey; And You Will Know Us By the
Trail of Dead, Source Tags and Codes on Interscope.
Rock reissues: The Action, Rolled Gold on Reaction Records; Skip
Bifferty, Skip Bifferty on Acme; Fairport Convention, Liege and
Leif on Island; Public Nuisance, title on name records; and The
Incredible String Band, The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter/The 5000 Layers
of the Onion on Collector's Choice.
And in jazz, don't miss: Bobby Previte, 23 Pictures by Joan Miro on
Tzadik; Tim Berne, Science Friction on Screwgun; and Keith Jarrett
Trio, Always Let Me Go on ECM.
— 31 December 2002
