Kyle Bruckmann, Entymology [solo improvisations] (CD)

Disclaimer once again that Kyle is an old friend and occasional collaborator. His first solo album Entymology came out in 2000. It's more diverse than the later Gasps and Fissures, with the intense extended technique double-reed workouts juxtaposed with more conventional playing. I can't always distinguish oboe/English horn/suona, but there's a bit of everything here. The short pieces range from Coltrane-ish sheets of arpeggios (light years removed from any jazz context) to abstract textures to harmonic development. It's a bit primitive and quiet technically, but the music can be beautiful and striking, and the elaborately folded packaging is impressive.

Marsen Jules, Golden (CD)

2007's Golden is Marsen Jules's most acoustic record, and also his busiest. There are pianos and acoustic guitars here playing recognizable patterns, presumably loops. These instruments create a sense of movement where his earlier records sometimes relied on more stasis. Electronics still poke out, sometimes prominently, and the music is hardly driving or propulsive. Golden is a really diverse, interesting album, that retains Marsen Jules's approach (down to the flowers on the cover) while stretching it into surprising territory.

Ab Baars, Verderame (CD)

Dutch reed player Ab Baars gives a cross section of his playing on 1997's Verderame. It's more chromatic than textural or melodic, with less frequent nods to jazz than his work with ICP and less aggression than his collaborations with the Ex. His clarinet work shows a bit more breadth than the sax pieces, but he's an expressive player all around. Dick Lucas's competent engineering captures the subtlety in Baars's playing, while the cover painting is a bit non-descript.

Stuart Dempster, Underground Overlays from the Cistern Chapel (CD)

Stuart Dempster is 1/3 of Deep Listening Band. On 1995's Underground Overlays from the Cistern Chapel, he's playing trombone with many of his students in a cistern. As a whole, it's a big cavernous, reverb-laden drone, which is hardly a surprise. There are brief moments of strangeness and pulsing that provide surprising interruptions to the ongoing wash. The packaging, which funnily superimposes the Sistine Chapel on a photo of graffiti in the cistern, is weakened by the other design elements around the image.

Mass, Labour of Love (side A)

The English band Mass came between Rema-Rema and the Wolfgang Press, and they released their sole album, Labour of Love, in 1981. It's sonically a bit ahead of its time, with airy high-end and lots of fast compression. The vocals have an obviously dark and Goth-y quality, and the heavy use of chorus and analog delay match this quality as well. While the songs aren't particularly melodic or catchy, there's a strange underlying kinship between Labour of Love and bands like the Swell Maps or the Clean. The splattery, textual parts sound particularly reminiscent of the Swell Maps more abstract pieces. The overtly dark packaging (which was not preserved for the CD reissue?!) reflects the Goth side of the album far more than its punk/indie side, and there's no clear recording or mastering credit for the fine sound quality (perhaps producer Ian Little was also an engineer?).

Pink Floyd, Soundtrack from the film More (side A)

While Pink Floyd's records in the early 70s tended to be awkwardly sequenced, none was as diverse and irregular as 1969's soundtrack to More. It contains a bit of everything Pink Floyd could produce at the time, from heavy guitar angst to an organ freakout to a pretty folk song. Each style is performed well, so the album really shows off the group's ability to execute within so many idioms. While the individual tracks sound great, the relative levels are sometimes quite jarring—the mastering engineer could have created a better flow. The blurry cover design (by Hipgnosis) is cool and captures the style of Pink Floyd in that era.

Renaldo & the Loaf, The Elbow is Taboo (side A)

Renaldo & the Loaf were two Englishmen who became associated with the Residents. Their (vaguely) canonical album was 1981's Songs for Swinging Larvae, a primitive, hilarious romp through their odd minds. It didn't leave a clear blueprint for artistic evolution or progress, so the duo took two tries to find its more mature style, finally succeeding with 1987's The Elbow is Taboo. The melodies are a bit clearer, which somehow enhances their faux-ethnic quality. The vocals are a bit clearer as well, but they still sound extreme, blending the group's earlier processed approach with some cleaner (but still somehow absurd) vocal sounds. The punchy low-end on some kick drum-like sounds is a nice touch too. The funny cover photo shows lingeré covering a marble sculpture of elbows.

Laurie Spiegel, Harmonices Mundi (one-sided LP)

Harmonices Mundi is a one-sided LP from New York computer music innovator Laurie Spiegel. It was recorded in 1977 for inclusion on the Voyager spacecraft, but not released in a commercial format until this 2003 LP. The back of the album is covered with a crazy space-themed image, that can be mostly seen backwards through the clear yellow vinyl while the record plays. The music starts as a slowly evolving, largely unfiltered, high-pitched drone, and additional layers of busier drone are very slowly added through the course of the piece.

Lluis Llach, Viatge a Itaca (side A)

Lluis Llach is known, at least in Europe, for having written a timeless political protest song called "L'estaca" in 1968. He made many records through the 70s, combining a Robert Wyatt-like leftist agenda with a more mellifluous folk palette that vaguely resembles Simon and Garfunkel. Many of his albums, including 1975's Viatge a Itaca have a side-long track with complex evolution and structure, and then short pieces on the other side. He often relies on sophisticated arrangements around folk-like harmonic content. Llach's albums can be an acquired taste, especially with the lyrics in Catalan (the translation to French in the liner notes helps me a bit), but I've come to enjoy them. The crazy instrumental sections in the course of "Itaca"'s 15 minute evolution are fascinating, and Llach's vocal delivery is compelling.

Joseph Jarman/Don Moye, Black Paladins (side A)

1979's Black Paladins features nice trio recordings of Jarman, Moye, and Johnny Dyani on bass/piano/vocals. It includes 3 Jarman compositions, and by 1979 he had definitely headed into the mellower approach that he still favors today. The Dyani piece "Mama Marimba" is interesting because it includes obvious use of overdubs—it's also a great document of Dyani's work in this era. They also perform a low-key version of Kalaparusha's "Humility in the Light of the Creator". The cover art is fairly bland, and the recording/mastering is overly bright.

MZUI, Waterloo Gallery (side A)

Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis from Wire worked as the duo Dome in the early-'80s. The MZUI album documents a Waterloo Gallery installation from 1982, and is pretty different from their Dome albums. It's not compositional or particularly electronic, but a recorded document of this installation. It reminds me most of work that Achim Wollscheid did many years later, except it's a series of short sketches, compared to Wollscheid's longer, conceptual pieces. The excellent packaging includes a booklet of photos documenting the installation.

The Dead C, Clyma Est Mort (side A)

Clyma Est Mort contains "live" Dead C recordings from their practice space, in front of a small audience in 1992. The imitation packaging of the Fall's Totale's Turns is humorous, and the sound quality is a bit rough even by the Dead C's lo-fi standards. The New Zealand noise legends are heroes to many, so there's not much to add here.

Ornette Coleman, Who's Crazy? 2 (side A)

This confusing record shows a copyright year of 1979, but it was apparently recorded in 1966. Who's Crazy 2 is a bit more tossed-off than some of Ornette's more overtly compositional work, but still contains some excellent trio playing. The group here is with Moffett and Izenzon, and they're a lot more introspective and cerebral than some of Ornette's other groups. Moffett especially leaves a lot more space than Higgins, Blackwell, or Denardo—he provides a lot of subtle texture on the toms in place of the driving cymbal rhythms often associated with Ornette. The pieces are not neat compositions, but more workouts on concepts. The front cover photo is nice enough, but I'm particularly fond of the parrot image on the center sticker.

Robert A.A. Lowe, Fazo IV (side A)

Fazo IV, Lowe's odd, introspective synth record from 2010, gives little hint of context or reference. It doesn't reveal Rob's background in rock bands, nor even his big city, art-world life. It has little to do with avant-composition or any academic structures, which makes sense since Rob has never worked in that world. Instead, it's a curious collection of pulses and tones that take shape into an evolving concept. It's mastered quietly, and it sounds a bit less murky than comparable 70s or 80s private press synth rumblings. The color insert is particularly nice.

The Shadow Ring, Lindus (side A)

When Lindus came out in 2001, it followed the "classic" era of the Shadow Ring, and it was far less musical or accessible than any of those. I dismissed it quickly as a strange conceptual experiment—in retrospect, I was half-right. 2003's I'm Some Songs really is a strange conceptual experiment that clearly marks the group's end. Lindus, in retrospect, was something of a transitional album. It is at times sparse and impenetrable, but at times the old Shadow Ring sound peaks out in bits and pieces. In retrospect, it's not as mind-blowing as the group's earlier works (and probably would not make sense without having heard them for reference), but it's still a weird and fascinating record that remains somehow worth a listen.

Joseph Jarman, Song for (side A)

Joseph Jarman's 1967 debut predates his time in the Art Ensemble—Song for features AACM notables Fred Anderson, Billy Brimfield, Steve McCall, and Thurman Barker. It's a very diverse record, from the dense, full-bore "Little Fox Run" to the sparse narrative of "Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City". Despite the slightly murky sound in the loudest parts, the dynamic range of the group is well-preserved. The loud parts aren't as dense as the energy jazz in New York at the time—they present a different notion of how to bring density and power to a jazz idiom. The quiet parts are a classic document of unique AACM pointillist minimalism. The retro cover is striking and beautiful—minimal and aggressive at the same time, just like the music.

Charalambides, Market Square (side C)

1995's Market Square doesn't resemble much else. Charalambides' trio line-up with Jason Bill was dark and sometimes dense. The most recognizable quality is the blues element of Tom Carter's overt lead guitar playing. There's some repetitive lines under his freak-outs, and Christina Carter's vocals float somewhere in the mix, often in more than one overdubbed layer. The dark, impenetrable quality sets it off from a folk idea, while it's far too grounded in guitars and blues riffs to fit any electronic/noise concept. Market Square sounds as distinctive in 2010 as it did on its release, when the group's memorable tour with Harry Pussy and the Shadow Ring helped to draw attention to them.

Jesus and Mary Chain, Psychocandy (side A)

Psychocandy has such ardent devotees that sometimes it feels heretical to point out its weaknesses. The bass playing obviously doesn't keep up with the rest of the band, and at least my American pressing is imbalanced without adequate low end. The canonical, amazing part of this record is (of course) the guitar sounds, which resemble nothing else before or after its 1985 release. My stereo speakers literally sound like they're being torn by distortion as the record plays. Somehow the vocals are subtly processed to blend into this wall instead of standing out as detached, and the tambourine almost appears on top of the guitars. It's a strange, remarkable sound that no one has exactly matched since.

Meat Puppets, Meat Puppets (side A)

Even as I remember the diversity and oddity of Meat Puppets' self-titled 1982 debut, it still manages to amaze me. At times, it sounds a bit like hardcore, with its sheer energy and persistence. Other times, the blues and country riffs come to the foreground and the songs slow down a bit. The vocals, though, never quite fit, as any of those genres have vocals more in the foreground—on Meat Puppets, the vocals fit right into the smear and cacophony. Spot's recording, while sounding a bit odd, definitely captures the band's immediacy and energy. The front cover collage is iconic, but the weird line drawing on the back is far more terrifying.

Jack Bruce, Songs for a Tailor (side A)

In 1969, when Songs for a Tailor came out, Jack Bruce had parted ways with Cream, but had not yet joined Tony Williams' Lifetime. Songs for a Tailor reflects the transitional era from which it came. There are obvious jazzy elements here in the complex structures, rhythms, and chord progressions. In other ways, the lyrics, vocal melodies, and instrumentation draw from Cream. While the horn charts are harmonically complex, their use in the songs resembles rock or soul far more than jazz (it's certainly an atypical place to find Harry Beckett's trumpet). Songs for a Tailor is a curious record that sounds both of and out-of-place for its time.

The Blithe Sons, The Great Orthochromatic Wheel (side A)

The Great Orthochromatic Wheel is a 2008 album from this avant-folk duo, part of San Francisco's Jewelled Antler Collective. The tracks are floaty and ethereal with acoustic guitars and a generally folk-y feel. Vocals blend into the compositions and never stand out as songs or melodies. There's not much low-end on the record, except for an occasional tom that juts out rhythmically. The haze of the sound is achieved more through density and a lo-fi feel that lacks transients, rather than a wash of electronic reverb. The blurry cover photo of a field fits the music perfectly. The liner notes claim that one of the tracks borrows from an old Genesis song on Trespass, but I was fooled.

Maarten Altena Octet & Nonet, Quick Step (side A)

Dutch bassist Maarten Altena assembled these groups to play 7 of his chamber jazz compositions. The references to jazz are more in the rhythm and tonality than the use of improvisation—the compositional structures are prominently featured here. Guus Jansen's percussive piano is prominently featured, especially on the tracks without a drummer, and I'm always partial to the use of traditional/ethnic double reed instruments (Maud Sauer plays shehnai here). The strangest thing about the album might be that Altena's bass is barely audible in the very bright mix/master. Quick Step features recordings from 1984-85 and was released in 1986.

The Fall, Domesday Pay-Off (side A)

Domesday Pay-Off is a bit of a confusing Fall release, since it's sort of a butchered American version of an English album (Bend Sinister). It dates from 1987, roughly the beginning of their more commercial new wave phase, and the production has hints of the records that follow it. The music ranges from fairly straightforward garage rock (a cover of "Mr. Pharmacist") to one of their strangest and most abstract tracks ("U.S. 80s-90s"). Domesday Pay-Off is more a weird, transitional Fall album than a classic.

Lycaon Pictus, Lycaon Pictus (side A)

I recorded and mixed this album, and it still feels pretty impossible to judge objectively. We made Lycaon Pictus in 2007 and it came out in 2008. It combines the energy of their live concerts with some of their weird ideas about making an album, and I still feel good about these mixes from when I was far less experienced behind a console. Jen did a great job on the mastering, and the metallic silver looks nice on the packaging.

The Red Crayola with Art & Language, Black Snakes (side A)

By 1983, Jesse Chamberlain had left the Red Crayola, and the sheer insanity that makes Soldier Talk and Kangaroo? legendary had diminished, at least slightly. Black Snakes resembles those records, but is vaguely a more straightforward new wave album. The somewhat surgical production is typical of its era, but with less effects than would be expected for either new wave or the Red Krayola. The weird and interesting songwriting barely draws notice in the band's long history. The playing is great, but the vocal takes are probably not Mayo's best on record. Allen Ravenstine stands out as always, and Black Snakes includes several songs still in the group's live repertoire.

Conrad Bauer Quartet/DDR, 'Round About Mittweida (side A)

'Round About Mittweida is an album of East German quartet improv from 1982. The most distinctive trait is the odd line-up—two guitars and two trombones. They're hard panned, with one of each instrument on each side. Some tracks are quite aggressive, while others leave more space—the trombones' particularly dense timbre shapes the dynamics. It's a pretty standard record of the idiom, with interesting playing. The abstract pink and gray cover painting is quite nice, though the conservative fonts don't really mesh with it. Jost Gebers's recording over-emphasizes presence, with the trombones sounding a bit brassy and the guitars a bit harsh—the fine performances come through nicely nonetheless.

Courtis/Moore, Brokebox Juke (side A)

If I could have expected anything from 2009's Brokebox Juke, it would have been pretty unapproachable noise. Alan Courtis from Reynols is a strong musical personality, and his work is often somewhat abrasive and challenging. Coupled with the difficulties of a long-distance collaboration, I expected this side of the pair's work to come through. Instead, a diverse record emerged from the process. There are repeating phrases, some of them featuring clear melodic content with a vaguely folky tinge—these parts remind me of Aaron Moore's group Volcano the Bear. The results in the end are a series of new experiments stretching both members of the duo—an impressive and diverse result of the collaboration. The grayscale photos on the gatefold cover are quite nice, and the sound quality is fine (for what I'm assuming is a primitive recording) if at times unnecessarily trebly.