Of Human Passings-Ornette Coleman, 1930-2015

Disaster Amnesiac realizes that there will be millions of obituaries and reminiscences of Ornette Coleman, and this is as it should be. The man was one of a select pantheon of American 20th Century Artists. His influence on music ranged FAR beyond that of Jazz, the form from which he first gained mass media attention. Musicians, visual artists, poets, novelists: all these vocational types felt the vibes that he put out for the past sixty years.
For me, personally, I was always touched by the sound of the human voice that emanated from his playing, on all instruments. Ornette imbued every note with the cry of humanity; the voice of real people having real feelings was always tantamount in his sound.
It's also great that he got monetarily rich doing it! I tip my cap to the astuteness of his business, not an easy endeavor within the music business.
Disaster Amnesiac loves so many of the bands and musicians that learned from him: Anthony Braxton, James Blood Ulmer, Grateful Dead, Arthur Blythe, David Boyce, Rent Romus, Joe Baiza.....on and on and on. Surely his Harmelodic Theory will continue to bear fine musical fruits from diverse quarters.
Ornette, you have now left the Planet Earth, may your spirit fly far and wide into the Greater Omniverse! Godspeed, Ornette, and thanks for sharing your vibes with the rest of us humans!

Up Half-Known Roads: Solo Percussion Records Installment 5; Clanging Edition

As usual, Disaster Amnesiac has let far too much time go past without an edition of the Up Half-Known Roads series. It's not as though I've been lazy, far from it. I was just marveling at the fact that the month of May has already for the most part slipped by. Good lord, how short is this mortal coil? Enough kvetching, though, and allow me to introduce this installment's theme: solo metallic/Post-Industrial percussion! Of course by now, just about all of America must be familiar with the concept, by way of, say, the Blue Man Group. This installment goes way beyond the likes of them, hopefully, dipping into the darkened caverns of Post-Industrial U.S.A. and pulling up some fine examples of the genre that whatever readership I currently have the pleasure of serving may not be on to. If you're already familiar with these artists, kudos. If not, hang out a bit for some clanging!

Hal Hutchinson-Wreckage Installations & Metalworks; Crucial Blaze, 2014
It was an initial hearing of this CD, several months back, that first sparked the idea for this post. At the end of his detailed liner notes, Hal Hutchinson describes the sound on Wreckage Installations as being examples of "true Industrial sound", and Disaster Amnesiac is very much inclined to agree. Hal took field recordings of scrap metal, all clanging and banging together, then mixed them together with looping processes. The resulting seven pieces (three somewhat longer, four shorter) provide all kinds of compelling sounds for the attentive listener. I've heard the voices of ghosts, strange familiar/unfamiliar melodies, rushing rivers, all manner of tones within these carefully crafted matrices. One thought that keeps coming back is the way in which Hutchinson's music on this disc shows layers of voices, much like those of any symphonic movement or attentively written song; there are low baritones, tenor and alto voices, and high soprano sounds. Wreckage Installations and Metalworks proves to be a very enjoyable listen, very much due to the obvious care with which it has been formed. The physical edition, assembled with equally great care and featuring really cool art, seems to still be available at the Crucial Blast website, but it's limited. Cop one and then let it color your mind with Rust Belt Rainbows of sound.

Ricardo Donoso-Solo Percussion Improvisations; self released, no date given
As opposed to the sheer bombast of the Hutchinson disc, Ricardo Donoso's Solo Percussion Improvisations is tons more quiet and subdued. Disaster Amnesiac figures that this is due in large part to the methods used in order to make these pieces. As the title says, they're improvisations. The tracks have that kind of questing feel that features on so many improvised pieces; it's as if the listener can feel along with Donoso as he explores various surfaces for the sounds that lay hidden within them. These sounds include high pitched scrapes from cymbals that float somewhat menacingly in the auditory spectrum, bubbly rubbing ones (from plastic drum heads?), long bowed tones, chains rattled and whirled on surfaces, and complex drumming patterns on actual drums. One important aspect of improvisation in music seems to be that of the player or players showing their inner thoughts and insights, and what Disaster Amnesiac loves about Solo Percussion Improvisations is the way in which Donoso, through pretty simplified means, does just this. One can feel oneself in the room with him as he, somewhat quietly, explores those innermost recesses of the Clang.

Ben Bennett-Spoilage; Experimedia, 2012
Last up for this Clanging Edition we find Ben Bennett's great Spoilage LP, on which the very talented percussionist coaxes any and all manner of sound from a long, meticulously detailed list for instruments. Much like the Donoso disc, Spoilage's performances sound as if they are real-time improvisations. Bennett does a really fine job of layering their various sounds as he works. Disaster Amnesiac has had the pleasure of seeing him do his thing live, and can attest to the veracity of this. He essentially utilizes a pile of sound making devices, and whirling them around on a surface, creates these maelstroms of sound. This is not to say that he's not a gifted technician: I've marveled at his sticking control, as it is really something to behold. On Spoilage, there are tracks on which he plays frame drums that prove this point. Bennett also uses a saxophone mouthpiece fitted with a drumhead-reed to accompany his drumming, adding even more layers of listening interest for the listener. There are also whirling, rubbing, and scraping sounds to delight at. SF Bay Area artist/musician/dancer/shaman Bob Marsh has described Ben Bennett as being something like one of America's foremost practitioners of genuine Butoh, and Disaster Amnesiac is inclined to agree with him. He uses dramatic silences, long pauses, in a way that is congruous with that form's aesthetics. There are long stretches of said silences embedded with parts of Spoilage which add to the dramatic tension feeling of their clang. This LP also has incredibly funny and sardonic track titles, my favorite being "I'll Call You When I Get Creamed By a Motorist". Ben, call me when your next release happens!

Believe it or not, Disaster Amnesiac does get intellectually involved in these posts. Hell, I probably get more food for thought than anyone else does with them! As I've worked on this one, it has occurred to me that there must be hundreds, if not thousands of individuals in the world who are working on musical projects and sounds similar to these. I often feel that the Noise genre and its many offshoots are a new form of Folk music in that way. If you're seeking out a few new clanging sounds from solo percussionists,  or perhaps an entry point into the genre, you might consider starting with one of the above. Tons of compelling sounds comin' from them, if you're willing to listen.

The Other One: The Long Strange Trip of Bob Weir; Netflix Originals, 2015

Mrs. Amnesiac and myself just finished watching this brand new film about the man who is most likely the most recorded musical artist of all time, and Disaster Amnesiac has to say that it's pretty damn good.
The person that emerges from this portrait is one that is eloquent, thoughtful, and bluntly honest. I find myself wishing that so many other Pop Culture Icon types shared these traits with Mr. Weir.
The Other One is filled with great archival footage of the Grateful Dead, naturally, and I'd be willing to bet that most Dead Heads, along with more casual fans, will thrill at its visual treats. There are also beautiful shots of rural Marin County and San Francisco, which, when paired with Grateful Dead music, show how reflective of the physical aspects of the San Francisco Bay Area their music really could be.
Additionally, there's a really heart wrenching interview with Trixie Garcia, in which the weight of her dad's life and its tortured ending really cuts through. Seriously, you'll be moved. Thankfully, Weir comes in to save the day with compassionate insight into the character of Jerry, and his matter of fact musings go far to assuage the raw pain that comes through Trixie's breakdown.
Obviously there will be many more blog posts, tweets, and Facebook statements about The Other One: The Long Strange Trip of Bob Weir, but I just had to get a quick one in while the impressions are still vivid.

Beefeater-Plays For Lovers; Dischord Records #17, 1985

As Disaster Amnesiac has listened to Beefeater's 1985 debut album, I've had thoughts about that concept which says an older person unconsciously gravitates towards the music of their youth. Not that this LP was every out of my listening rotation for too long! Far from it. Disaster Amnesiac has always had some sort of copy of Plays For Lovers close by. Naturally, these tunes, first heard by yours truly when he was a tender pup of fifteen resonate for a crusty almost forty-five years old in that way, but Disaster Amnesiac would also just like to describe and enthuse about not only its emotional merits, but those musical ones as well.
Beefeater's sound as always struck this listener as a mixture, often times a beautifully messy one, of four very distinct elements. This feel was what made them so compelling upon initial listens, and what probably keeps them that way.
Foremost among these elements is the distinctive vocal sound of Tomas Squip. The emotional rawness of his delivery, wherein he sighs, cries, hits, and even spits into the mic provides for an often exasperating listen. Of course by now the term "Emo" is probably bandied about at any level of cultural discourse; as far as Disaster Amnesiac recalls, that term arose as Post Hardcore Punk Rock listeners dialogued with each other, searching for ways to describe the highly charged approach of Squip, Rites of Spring's Guy Picciotto, and Embrace's Ian MacKaye. Over time, some of the more overt political references of tunes such as Reaganomix seem to lose a touch currency (but, then again they also serve as snapshots of what was on the mind of a large chunk of an underground music scene), but his lyrics on Out of the Woods, Song for Lucky, and Mourning, with its incredibly poignant musings on the dynamics of suicide, retain tons of powerful impact. I've often felt, while listening to Plays, that Squip's style is almost too confessional, too emotionally intimate for "polite society" dynamics, in the way that often the first reaction to any type of sorrowful tears is to try and immediately stop the person shedding them from doing so. Certain emotional displays make people uncomfortable, and Squip spends the span of this entire LP evincing them. Disaster Amnesiac counsels: don't be afraid of it. Listen to and feel this emotional outpouring. Additionally, Tomas plays one hell of a great guitar solo on the cover of Jimi Hendrix's Manic Depression, essentially going ape shit with feedback and raw six string caterwaul. As with his vocals, it's all about the rawness, there.
Not to be outdone in the guitar rawness department is Fred Smith, with his style that fuses Heavy Metal, Funk, Punk Rock, Psychedelic Rock, all blended into a very personal expression. I can recall marveling at his sounds, so at odds with most Hardcore (save the crew over at SST, of course) of the time. Over the years, these sounds continue to thrill the guitar player fan that I remain. His heavy, block chords on Trash Funk, his quicksilver intro on Beefeater, his feedback-drenched playing on Assholes Among Us, the wild riffing on Miss You So Much. Fred just provides so much in the way of guitar expressiveness throughout Plays. His wild, careening playing added a lot to the singular Beefeater mixture. In the early 2000's, Disaster Amnesiac was channel surfing and saw Fred on the tube as part of some Rock band based "reality show". All that I could do was reminisce about seeing his smile up on stage at a community center in Washington, D.C., riffing away with Beefeater.
Funky bassist Dug E. Bird also adds his own personal voice to the Beefeater mix by way of his four string originality. I'd say that if you want to go to the heart of his expression on Plays For Lovers, skip ahead to track 5, Mr. Silverbird, and marvel at his thick, rumbling low end heaviness. Disaster Amnesiac never tires of this tune, with its musical and emotional movement, and Bird's playing has so much to do with this. At this point in time, the musical paring of Funk and Rock elements is well-trod territory, but I'd counsel the listener to really pay attention to the gritty, dirty, FONKY sound that Beefeater get on this track, and recall that they laid it down over thirty years ago. Now, I ain't saying that this was the first example of such action, as I'm sure that Bird was in the audience at that Big Boys/Trouble Funk/Minor Threat show in D.C., but I am saying that it's a damn fine example of the potential of it. Dug pretty much plays lead bass on A Dog Day and Song for Lucky, builds huge low blocks of sound on 4 3 2 1, floats melodic on Beefeater, and just generally holds things down throughout. His style has always struck this listener as a liberating voice of the bass guitar in Punk Rock, right up there with Mike Watt in some ways.
Paired with Bird, nay, glued to him throughout Plays is drummer Bruce Taylor. I can still recall seeing his picture on the sleeve of the LP, and marveling at this "old guy" playing on a Punk Rock record. That notion seems ridiculous now, of course. Bruce's playing on the album is most definitely not ridiculous as he, like Smith, mixes what sounds like elements of different influences into a voice of his own. His kit playing has the energized feel of Punk Rock and Hardcore on Mourning and 4 3 2 1, albeit still beat-based, and his solid thumping beats on Assholes, Red Carpet, Mr. Silverbird and Manic Depression, always blending lively cymbal work with over the top rolling snare and tom tom patterns, show grounding in earlier styles. It's probably safe to say that he played drums in bands before Punk Rock, and felt fine utilizing lessons learned from those experiences. Where did he  come from pre-Beefeater, and where did he go after this LP?
Disaster Amnesiac remembers exactly where I was, the first that I heard Plays For Lovers, and who I was with. I also remember how it made me feel.  All these years later, I put it on and still feel something. Beefeater's dervish mixture of elements, and their raw delivery, just never gets old for this listener.

Many Arms & Toshimaru Nakamura-self titled CD; Public Eyesore Records #131, 2015

On occasion, Disaster Amnesiac worries about Public Eyesore/Eh? honcho Bryan Day. Between what I'd gather is a constant production schedule for his labels, and keeping his Bad Jazz group going (including tours), where does he find time to rest? Seriously, Bryan, make sure and drink plenty of water!
Thankfully for the Noise/Improvised Music/huh? fan, all of this effort pays off in recordings such as Public Eyesore's newest, the Many Arms & Toshimaru Nakamura disc. Over four simply named pieces, I-IV, this powerful quartet blasts, pounds, and sizzles its way out of the speakers with the fury of Punk Rock, the demonstrative battle energy of Metal, and the control of Jazz.
Guest Nakamura, on no-input mixing board, provides a lot of that sizzle, as his sounds remain often in the background, subtly coloring the side areas and crevices of the overall sound field. Listen to his work of II for what has struck this listener as the best overall example of that action within this disc. Disaster Amnesiac figures that "politeness" does not hold much weight with a lot of the more aggro improvisors, but I definitely get a sense that Nakamura's approach here was somewhat framed by that notion. Perhaps he didn't want to bring too much attention to what he was doing within the overall group sound? It's not so much that he's timid, as it is that he blends into the maelstrom whipped up by Many Arms.
Maelstrom, indeed! Philadelphia-based Many Arms, according the to the Public Eyesore press sheet that came with this disc, have spent a lot of time on tour themselves, and this certainly comes through in their sound. Drummer Ricardo Lagomasino often goes full octopus mode, whirling his arms and legs around the kit's components as his poly-rhythmic layering propels the music into highly energetic zones. Bassist Johnny DeBlase plays and incredible solo on IV, really wresting center stage for the four strings, but equal to the other players throughout. Nick Millevoi on guitar pulls industrial sized scraping and tonal blasts, along with cool cello sounds on III. In a word, Many Arms plays. Their energy and intensity has made Disaster Amnesiac think of Tony Williams Lifetime at times, almost as if that band had dispensed with their "prettier" stuff and just delved right down into the well of delicious, noisy, messed up improvisational whoop ass. Many Arms fucking bring it!
On the engineering side, Eugene Lew deserves much credit for capturing the many layers of instrumental depth that Many Arms and Nakamura poured out during this one day (!) session. The listener can hear all elements with the clarity that Disaster Amnesiac is sure that the players desired from their respective axes.
Within the past few days, I've seen on social media that Bryan Day is currently planning a trip to the Philippines  in order to document what he's told me is a burgeoning and good Improvised/Noise scene developing there. Disaster Amnesiac looks forward to tasting some of that lumpia, but, in the meantime, I'll be jamming Many Arms & Toshimaru Nakamura at those times when a cleansing aural blast is required!

History of the Eagles: The Story of An American Band-Allison Ellwood, dir.; 2013

Owing to a recent ER visit and subsequent emergency surgery, Disaster Amnesiac has been lain up in bed for half a week now, and likely to remain so for at least a few more days. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't doing a ton of 'flix'ing. Along with an epic binge watch of Californication, a show I'd never had the slightest interest in, two-plus hours were spent delving into History of the Eagles, Alison Ellwood's detailed film about the band.
Detailed and fascinating, I should say. The film is filled with scads of interesting archival footage of the band; the sometimes painful slog of Sunset Strip sidemen Glen Frey and Don Henley to massive FM-based star status is illustrated with the kind of obsessive attention that most musicians will only ever fantasize as being possible for their careers.
Career is a key word that came through to Disaster Amnesiac as I watched History of the Eagles. You just have to hand to it to them: they played every step up the ladder, every move, brilliantly, using even their failures and misfires as growth and learning opportunities. This ability of Frey and Henley is incredibly admirable in its pragmatism. They chose a path. They took the path. They overcame the path. In career terms, they won.  If you watch the film, you'll surely understand how this could have only ever been the outcome for any venture headed by Frey and Henley. One would be hard-pressed to find more driven people: Frey comes across as a consummate music biz magician, with his mixture of wild eyed abandon and overt schmooze. Henley's steely gaze would probably make Socrates seem like Stiv Bators. Paired within the business venture that was the Eagles, they took the Lennon/McCartney template, threw off the art school affectation of it all and replaced it with a post-Revolution MBA vibe (this is copped to, by Frey, in off-hand remarks about "the '70's"), and partied all the way to that great Private Lear Jet in the Sky, swooping down to hockey halls across the the U.S. to croon their way into the hearts, wallets, and pudendum of the lumpen. Wouldn't any musician do the same, given that set of personal will and ambition? I mean, you just gotta be honest!
And, to be honest, the Eagles wrote great songs. They are catchy. They stick to the side of your perceptions like good ad copy. The American perception was primed, ready for their oeuvre when it started to emanate from The Radio. Disaster Amnesiac is just old enough to recall being aware of their steady stream of hits, Crazy Horse without the crazy parts, as they arrived. Their tunes remind me of trips to the grocery store in the back of a huge green Chevrolet and parental bridge parties that I'd have to listen to from behind a closed bedroom door. The Eagles music defined the lifestyle, a point that is assuredly made within the film.
A point that I'd like to make is that, underneath all of the gloss, there struck me as being something really gross. The best way that Disaster Amnesiac can define this feeling is by paraphrasing Keith Morris, who shared those Los Angeles streets, but from quite a different vantage point, with the Eagles, when he suggested that Punk Rock was inevitable in the face of the continuous mellow onslaught from pro teams such as the Eagles. This viewer got to a point where I felt as though all of it, I'm talking reality itself here, was being staged managed, massaged into some pulpy mush by the kind of force through which the Eagles gained their worldly glut. I'm not blaming Frey Henley et al here. Again, they saw what they wanted, and got it. That said, there is a scene in which Glen, after being offended by what Disaster Amnesiac felt was the only appropriate remark a musician could make to a politician at a "benefit", from class-A smirkin' guitarist Don Felder, lets go with a string of expletives that pretty clearly shows what's really going on behind all of that Takin' It Easy; to watch it and think about it is, for me, to see the veil lifted on pretty much the entire Fantasy Factory. I gather that the early Punk Rockers like Morris sensed as much, but, hey, don't worry, many of them have been co-opted themselves now, too.
History of the Eagles is divided into two parts, the second of which features the band doing the Big Reunion victory lap 1990's style. Disaster Amnesiac simply scanned forward through most of that footage, as I'd grown pretty weary of it by then.
I wonder, did it all feel as Pyrrhic to them as it did to me?

Disaster Amnesiac 7" Roundup, Eastern Seaboard Edition

Well here we are at Spring 2015 already! Baseball has started, California has gotten a bit of rain, Disaster Amnesiac has weathered at least three colds since last October (the last one had me feeling damn near dead!) As I'm feeling much better today, I figured I'd head over to the library wing of Chez Amnesiac and attempt to clean out my mucus-addled head with a few short, sweet 7" blasts and take you, the reader, along with me. Don't trip, I ain't contagious right now.

th'Inbred-Reproduction; Frozen Sound Studio, 1985
Starting out this trip east with West Virginia's Hardcore Punk champs th'Inbred, we find the group addressing all manner of important topics in the minds of mid-1980's underground: the vapidity of MTV and guys with money that have a desire to go to Hardcore shows, the banality of work, the Fascistic tendencies of the good 'ole U.S. of A, and so forth. Listening to these screeds, Disaster Amnesiac has been ruminating on how Hardcore Punk was in many ways more of a verbal development than musical; don't get me wrong th'Inbred's music is tight and nicely arranged, buzzing along in a sort of speedy Prog manner at times. It's just that the texts seem to have taken precedence over the music in so much Hardcore. The cultural dynamics that they railed against are still in place, so I'm not sure how much real change was effected, buy, hey, at least they documented their ragin' chops and anger before all of that weirdness that came along in the 1990's!  I must confess that my most enjoyable moments from this one are lead singer @rt pipes down and lets the band jam out, as their buzzsaw guitars and tight rhythms move my mind with a bit more pure color.  Does this make Disaster Amnesiac some kind of revanchist running dog? Oh, my.

Sliang Laos-Alabama Ego b/w Shining Path; Tenderizer Records, 1993
Moving closer to the Atlantic and stopping in Richmond, VA, Disaster Amnesaic's Art Capital of the American South, Sliang Laos gets down with a kind of Metal/Industrial grinding pound on these two tracks. This band possessed some seriously mighty swing: the drums, guitars and bass locking into these sharp, tight grooves that set up what strikes Disaster Amnesiac as much for pscyo-sexual lyric concerns. Alabama Ego even sports some broken atonal horn warbling a la Cosey Fanni Tutti, a really cool nod to the early Death Factory aesthetic that I imagine was an influence to someone within this collective. My old pal Erik, a long-time Richmond resident had boots on the ground as Sliang Laos did their thing in real time, and he once mentioned that Alternative Tentacles had expressed interest in releasing some more of their stuff. Whenever I play this 7", I lament that lost opportunity. Sliang Laos's mutated Grind Metal should have been much more effectively documented. Seek and find this gem, just don't ask me for my copy. Thanks, Grotz.

Carrion-Begger b/w Witness Your Birth; McCarthyism Records, 2002
Get in a car and drive north on I-95 from Richmond, and you'll find yourself in what Disaster Amnesiac used to know as NOVA. Carrion's 2002 offering seems to have been developed there. More swingin' guitar drive here, with some nicely angular passages that add some Math to Doom, along with dramatic quieter parts from which they blast forth with more changes. Disaster Amnesiac can't find a personnel listing here, but the guitar player does step out with some decent soloing at times before hooking back up with the drummer and bass player for that sharp ensemble interaction. Great, unaffected Hardcore Punk-style vocalizing, reminiscent of Barry Henssler's growl, too. Carrion documented some smart, sharp Heavy Rock on this 7". I wonder if they shared bills with Mastadon when that group was just getting started?

The Hidden Hand-De-Sensitized; McCarthyism Records (no date listed)
Anyone that has paid even a glance towards Heavy Rock post 1990 or so will have to have become familiar with Wino. If Maryland is the Doom Capital of the United States, then surely Wino is its crown prince. So many bands have used his ideas to fuel their own great sounds. Naturally, it's best to go to the source, and these two short blasts of Weinrich spiel damn well provide. As far as I had come to understand them, The Hidden Hand were Wino's post-Spirit Caravan group, put together with guys from a more Punk Rock background, and he was really happy with it. They played in S.F. in 2005 or so, but Disaster Amnesiac had to work the next day, so was unable to attend (note to self: FU). De-Sensitized features plenty of his wild Psych Rock soloing that springs forth from the SINGULAR Doom riffs that Wino comes up with so amazingly effortlessly, all of which surround his musings on personal strength and clarity in the face of so much societal obfuscation. Dave Hennesy on drums and Bruce Falkinburg prove themselves up to the task of pushing Wino's sound visions; they're fluid and tight, rocking out on the title track and the un-named instrumental b-side. Said b-side delights the listener with even more Wino wilding as his fingers blaze forth yet another excellent six string solo statement. Seriously, if you've never had the pleasure of hearing Scott Weinrich play live, do it.

Disaster Amnesiac has been hearing a lot of buzz about Record Store Day lately. I doubt that any of these East Coast waxings will get the coveted reissue treatment that is afforded to others for that Spring Time "event", but I also figure that most of these could be found on eBay or Amazon for a reasonable price. Surely any of these would appeal to most Heavy Rock/Punk/Metal/Doom fans.