Kenny Millions-Multiplexity; Muteant Sounds, 2017

Again we return to the Muteant Sounds massive drop of downloads! This time, Disaster Amnesiac has been grooving to Kenny Millions' 1977 offering, Multiplexity. After repeated listening, I feel foolish that this guy's work has been unfamiliar to me! I am always telling myself and anyone that will listen about Jazz's bottomless well of talent, about how there's just so many great sounds out there, but......yeah. Disaster Amnesiac has been caught seriously off guard with this one.
Right from the jump, with Bop It, Millions and his crew: Peter Warren (tracks 1, 5, 6)/Mark Miller (tracks 2, 3) on bass, Sadiq Abdu Shahid on drums, and Garret List on trombone, slam into some seriously swinging instrumental interaction. Shahid hits things crisp and hard, knocking around with great rolling aplomb, and tight syncopation that melds like iron to Warren's big walking bass lines. Atop this, Millions speaks all kind of multiphonic dialects with his alto sax. His cries, wails, guffaws, and all around extended ruminations carry the attentive ear into the kind of aural abstractions that seem like such inherent qualities from reed instruments when in the hands of a superior player. Disaster Amnesiac has read about the mid-1970's time frame being a kind of dry spell for Jazz, but, clearly, whomever wrote those words was not aware of Kenny being on the scene. Multiplexmulti follows. This track of Musique Concrete styled experimentation features List and Millions getting odd with their voices, along with their respective axes. Buchla synth tones blend with 'bone bleats and flute trills as these dudes get very Avant Garde with it. As I've listened, my mind has conjured up fragments of Ira Cohen type films. This track would fit in fine with those kinds of moves.
The band moves back into earthier territory next, with the nice, lengthy Bossa Nova From Hell. Miller takes a great, plucky solo pretty early on, followed by a short statement from List, cool for its warbling tones, before Millions takes off on an extended sax musing. He starts off kind of low, before soaring up into higher register glossalalia. Shahid holds things down for him, varying his bossa beats with a feel that Disaster Amnesiac keeps thinking of as "gravillic" (see Anthony Braxton). It for sure ain't no half step. List steps back into the fray for some more duo exchanges with Kenny before the head statement is given again. There's a sophistication to this song, shown strongly within its harmonic voices, that you just gotta go with. These guys were players.
More pure abstraction occurs  with Lament For A Caged Lion, in which steaming Buchla sounds serve as a bed for plaintive bass clarinet playing from Millions. Kenny lays into this lament with passionate insight, giving human voice to some poor, caged creature. Sadiq steps out on the next track, What's the Difference Between a Pizza and a Jazz Musician?. This track's tight turns and corners are navigated easily by the drummer. His snare rolls fit in tightly with the (harm)melodics of the piece's head. He pairs sweet cymbal rolls with bowed bass from Warren before taking a kick ass solo on which his well tuned tom toms are played with musical fury, with stabbing interjections from the 'bone. It's the kind of solo that gets people standing in the live setting. Give it up for Shahid! Good lord what a great skins man.
Mulitplexity concludes the Blues-ey shuffle of Terrestrial Delectations, during which Kenny Millions serves up a sweet, extended solo that is indeed earthy in its tone as Warren throws down the Funk on an electric bass and Sadiq absolutely buries the pocket. Millions hits high notes, gets all kind of colorful, and just generally slays throughout. This track's groove is Miles wide, as if they'd been digging a tunnel from an extended stay in Agartha or Pangea. A very different solo turn from Shahid signals the close, and the band takes things home, struttin' all the damn way, as well they should. If you've got it, flaunt it!
As stated, Disaster Amnesiac is at somewhat of a loss as to why I've never been aware Kenny Williams, or the other stellar musicians on Multiplexity up to this point. If you've been listening to them, right on, if not, this is a fine way to be introduced to their talents. I guess that we all have catching up to do in one way or another.

Two blasts of sonic heaviness from The Pet Goat Records!

Last weekend Disaster Amnesiac was in attendance for a bittersweet event. Noisebridge Hackerspace, a really down to earth, fun spot for hackers and digital makers in the Mission District of San Francisco, was having what was likely to be its last Godwaffle Noise Pancakes show. Godwaffle itself is in real danger of not having anywhere to happen in the City, as Grux can't seem to find a new venue. Hopefully, he'll soldier on, as these shows are absolutely fun. Dario, main man of the powerful Noise project Blood of Chhinnamastika, hooked me up with a couple of recent releases from his The Pet Goat Records. As my bloodied perceptions stumble away from their sonic pounding, here are some enthused thoughts!

Blood of Chhinnamastika-self titled, cassette; The Pet Goat Records #97, no date given
Having seen Blood of Chhinnamastika live a handful of times, Disaster Amnesiac knows that it's a project that can seem somewhat assaulting. That said, my take is that Dario wants to find a way to get an audience moving, and as such will wade into their fray in order to do so. With this eponymous cassette tape, Blood of Chhinnamastika moves the battle to the home listener's ears. Big, whirling, fried electronics blast out from the three tracks contained within it. Power Electronics moves are thrown with jolting force, sometimes left to drone and waver dramatically, sometimes cut up and juxtaposed with recorded voices. Within the former spaces, and at high volumes, tracks such as Death Is the Greatest Teacher, See No Hope, and Unreality Tortures (great title!) kick some serious sonic ass as they fly out into the air. Huge, blackened blocks of what I'd imagine are sounds sourced from analog synthesizers, pedals, and digital methods are combined to stun the brain with their force. The cut ups at times provide some levity as the human voice is made to stumble, babbling away with stunted non-eloquence. Disaster Amnesiac can't help but wonder if these passages Blood of Chhinnamastika's none too subtle commentary on the human proclivity towards verbal diarrhea. At other times, it's as if the vocals of some subterranean being have been captured within their natural habitat. Demonic as all get out, that's for sure. Surreal and seriously fried, this tape must be cranked up loud for its full effect, and Disaster Amnesiac highly recommends that you follow suit.

Microwave Windows/Blood of Chhinnamastika-CD; The Pet Goat Records#98, no date given
The duo of Microwave Windows and Blood of Chhinnamastika actually played the Hackerspace event mentioned within the the intro to this post. Their set certainly was powerful, but it is this CD which really shows off their finely honed chemistry. Starting off with the burbling, bubbling sounds of Stab Homing, this pair dig down deep into some pretty bonkers action. Freespace Power follows on track two with some harsh feedback which leads into robotic death burps and junkyard scraping. This track keeps making Disaster Amnesiac think about the ending scene of the Exorcist III, in which, if recalled correctly, had some dire warning about the impending Hell on earth paired with a soundtrack that sounded a lot like this stuff. The Noise cuts directly into Sentient Craggy Mantilla from there, wherein some type of signal gets the shred treatment from competing banks of digitized mania, leading up to a wild, fuzzy retard that lingers into the disc's centerpiece, Call And (Phantom) Response. It weaves masterfully jacked beats, Blood's cut up techniques, waves of glitched mania and spewed feedback into a heavily layered treatise of Noise. This fucker rages and pummels for a good fifteen and one half minutes of extreme noise terror (yes, I know). Microwave Windows and Chhinnamastika proceed next down Too Many Rabbit Holes, in which signals get flanged and 'verbed. Disaster Amnesiac has been digging the percussive sounds on it, along with the shredding slow build of its second half, which melts into its earlier sonic elements. The Holes blend seamlessly into Smashing Paper Cranes; this second longest track on the CD gives off sparks of wiry energy. I hear a laser war in some past iteration of the planet coming from what I believe to be Moogerfoogers chained into a loop of audio barbed wire. Again, there are just layers and layers of stuff happening with the action. The relatively placid Atmospheric Chemistry ends things Pet Goat #98, with wheedling scraps of electronics and ghostly feedback spitting some demented goodbye. The last minute or so seem to even feature some type of emergency broadcast network sirens. Fitting, as Microwave Windows and Blood of Chhinnamastika have pretty much destroyed your shit with this release.

Places such as Noisebridge Hackerspace and getting more and more rare within the SF Bay Area, but, hey, Disaster Amnesiac has already told you that. Thankfully, there's a rich, varied Noise scene that's pretty deeply ensconced. Will these myriad acts have any spaces in which to play? I'm thinking that they'll find ways to get out and get down with their sounds. Surely, if you find these spots, you'll find the likes of Blood of Chhinnamastika and Microwave Windows going at it within them. In the meantime, one can find stellar examples of their moves at Pet Goat Records. Give 'em a click or two!

Steve Mackay and the Radon Ensemble-Tunnel Diner; Muteant Sounds digital release, 2017

Back we go to the Muteant Sounds haul for this installment of Disaster Amnesiac's 2018 campaign to make it ten years of my little corner of the internet writing game! Where does the time go?
We all know where Steve Mackay went, him being a member of the Stooges and all. One has to figure that his way out tenor honking on L.A. Blues was the initial serving of Out Jazz for many  a music fan, myself included. It was really cool to see that he spent his last years being recognized and lauded for his talents. As far as Disaster Amnesiac can tell, the decades between the Stooges initial moves and their eventual renaissance were lean for Mackay. Is this the case?
Originally released in an extremely limited vinyl edition (26 copies!?), Tunnel Diner has been given a much wider potential audience on this digital release from Muteant, and hopefully Mackay's sounds find their way into many more peoples' ears that way!
Starting off with Brooklyn, North Carolina, Mackay leads the charge with some very soulful phrasing which indeed blends the urban intensity often blown through the tenor saxophone with gritty countrified accents. As Disaster Amnesiac has listened, I've thought over and over and this sound being a prime example of the Harmelodic approach to music. This is not to say that it's at all academic sounding: we find some really juicy Jazz playing therein. Steve gets some really funky backing from what sounds like steel drums, which add even more sweetness to the nectar as they pair with slamming Funk rhythms from the drums and bass.
The drums switch to a kind of tribal pounding feel for Bohunk Lane. Wah wah bass and odd electronics skitch and skitter atop this drum maelstrom, a second line at Burning Man before Steve and another reed man (sorry, scant credits on the Bandcamp page), intertwine their horn riff, one of them eventually taking a short solo before the whole thing gets clipped off rather abruptly.
Mackay and his partner kick off Sans Frontiers with more of that great duo exchange, longer held notes being framed by electronics and Free drumming. Wordless vocalizing enters into the mix as the group kicks off into more of their energetic weaving, the group eventually getting kicked into overdrive by intense guitar chords. It would indeed be tough to put a fence around improvisations made up of energy levels this high.
The Frontier leads to a short interlude called Patrick's Brain Aneurysm where bells and snare rolls get tenor sax smears and mourning hollers before ending up at place of pure solo energy from Mackay. The saxophonist lays it out emotionally naked and intimate, pairing sax tones with sighs and moans.
Side A of Tunnel Diner concludes with Mixed Martial Language. A rolling drum line, more steel drums, bass guitar ostinato and wiggy sax lines lead up to some cathartic vocalizing from a contrite lyric from a dude that want's the listener to know that he's "trying". Disaster Amnesiac is glad to let into this crazed confessional, despite being a bit nervous at the emotional intimacy of it.
One thing that strikes Disaster Amnesiac as I've moved from side A to B on Tunnel Diner is that the band sounds as if they're getting a lot more warm, midway through this set.  Canal Street opens the side with some intricately honked tenor from Mackay, paired with electronic whisps before the steel drums strike up again, quickly followed by thick percussive maelstrom; all of this action pushes Steve into some passionate shredding, his voice going all manic and insistent.
This energy persists into 200,000 Sax Players In Nashville as the electric bass rolls, the percussion tumbles, and the sax offers up more of those fine voices that give off heavy Blues vibes.
These two pieces serve as introductions to the the LP's title track, in which the entire rhythm sections gels into a heavy marching tempo, as Tunnel Diner's surreal second line pushes Mackay to summon up the Pharaoh. The physical impact of his notes spread out from the speakers and push the ears around a bit before syncopating beautifully with the rest of the group. A bonkers, funky bass line pushes Soul to spare and, naturally, the group responds accordingly.
As more of those shards of electronics take Tunnel Diner out, they lead to a bit more of an introspective, ESP-Disk place for Tu Croire C'Est Gratuit???. Paired horns moan and mourn a bit on this one, giving Disaster Amnesiac thoughts of spiritual services in some doomed domicile. Eventually the guitar pushes the playing out into more rhythmic bump and grind: hands clap, cymbals pop, ring modulators whirr, and before too long the group is back on Bourbon St., kicking butt and flashing on high.
Naturally, it makes sense for the group to blast off from Sun Ra's confining planet (not Saturn, hint hint) to take things out, and out they certainly do with Voyage To Arcturus. The Radon Ensemble scrawls, beeps, blips, honks, and pounds on the tune, truly sounding at one point as they're more of a rocket engine than a group of mere Jazz men. A powerful sendoff, and, yes Space IS the Place for these dudes.
Presumably pleasing to Free Jazz heads and/or headbangers of the Stooge-ian stripe, Steve Mackay and the Radon Ensemble's Tunnel Diner is a fiery and powerful document of a legendary player, doing his thing, no holds barred and ripping. Disaster Amnesiac is sad that I never got to see this group play live. I suspect that this one will stay in my rotation for a good long while.