Michael Mantler/Carla Bley – 13 and 3/4

Loosely affiliated with ECM via a distribution deal, WATT records was the collaborative label established by composers Bley and Mantler to exclusively present their own music. And just as well, as even in the “golden age” that this was recorded in (1975) you can’t imagine too many record labels saying, “yeah, ok…why not?” to this music. This is a seriously dark and disturbing orchestral/free jazz/minimalist/cacophonous hell fire of an album, or at least 50% of it is. Bley’s 3/4, is appropriately enough in a lurching waltz-time for the most part, with its main child-like piano part sounding like Steve Reich without the theoretical posturing, mixed with a slightly inebriated version of the main theme from The Godfather. It’s still a challenge though, but anyone who has enjoyed her epic Escalator Over The Hill will find the subtly humorous, yet adventurous score very pleasing .

Over on the other side of the record however, Mantler’s 13 makes Carla Bley’s piece feel like the Carpenters. Imagine one of those horribly jarring orchestral moments that you get when someone gets stabbed in a horror movie – then keep that sound going. Then keep it going some more. Then remove all sense of structure and tonality and why not add a second orchestra to the mix? Yes that’s right, no less than 8 trumpets, 6 trombones, 4 french horns, 2 bass trombones and 3 tubas constitute mearly the brass element, and that’s already enough for Mahler and Wagner to get slightly wet eyed over. It also sounds as though the sax section from the Glenn Miller orchestra have accidentally crash landed into the studio as well. Though ultimately as impressive a sound as this makes, what is particularly stomach churning about the piece is its intensity, almost to the point where by the end you literally can’t take it any more (as I’m sat typing this the final deranged onslaught of  the piece is genuinely causing me mild breathing difficulties!) But, despite that the work is strangely compelling. Again, like a horror film there is something about it where you just can’t take your eyes or ears off it, no matter how horrific it gets. And everyone looks to be having a very pleasant afternoon in the woods on the back cover, so that’s nice.

Although not available on CD, those of you with Spotify access can hear the opening 3 mins of Mantler’s half of the album on the recent ECM retrospective of Michael Mantler called Review:

Pat Metheny - Zero Tolerance For Silence

Pat Metheny is reknowned for two main attributes: firstly his hair. A modern miracle of evolution that seems to be sticking two fingers up at the ageing process, whilst simultaneously defying gravity. Secondly, an equally stubborn attitude towards what constitutes “music”. Metheny is unique amongst jazz musicians in that he seems to have set himself two extremes from which to navigate around his own particular musical universe: firstly, it could be argued that Metheny is, for better or worse, the father of so called smooth jazz, even though the Pat Metheny Group’s inventive compositions bare little relation to the tepid dribblings of the likes of Kenny G. Secondly though, is an approach to music that is best descibed by the title of this blog: stomach ulcer music! Atonal, vicious, uncompromising and nasty. All of these words describe Zero Tolerance For Silence, an album of guitar improvisations that from the first note is literally shocking in its visceral impact. The clanging, raw sound of the guitars on the opening 20 min piece makes the guitar playing on the Sex Pistols Never Mind the Bollocks sound like Yngwie Malmsteen by comparison. It’s one of the few albums that physical made me jump when the first chord crashed out of the speakers, but as with other noise based music such as some of the overloaded sounds on the second Continuum album, there is method to the madness and forms and shapes do start to emerge, only cast in an extremely primitive and primordial form of expression. The real joy of this album though is the fact that Metheny’s previous record to this, the sugary and filmic Secret Story, is so diametrically opposed in almost every conceivable way that surely there must have been some unsuspecting Metheny fans who picked the album up and settled down by the fire with a nice bottle of red wine only to have their relaxing evening of ”smooth jazz” shat upon from a great height!

Significantly perhaps, Zero Tolerance For Silence is currently one of the only Metheny albums that remains out of print, although there is talk of a reissue. Either way, it’s well worth the pain.

MB