When words trail off at the beginning of claire rousay’s “everything perfect is already here,” ornate instrumentation is waiting to fill a void left by the breakdown of language. Yet it becomes clear as we trace rousay’s collaged sonic pathway that breakdown, of meaning and also of melody, is also a place to rest. everything perfect… is made up of two extended compositions that cycle between familiarity and unknowing. There are seemingly infinite ways to feel in response to these pieces of music, which shift tone across their languid duration, earnest like a familiar song but unbound from the emotional didacticisms of lyrical voice and pop form.rousay builds a fluid landscape around the acoustic contributions of Alex Cunningham (violin), Mari Maurice (electronics and violin), Marilu Donovan (harp), and Theodore Cale Schafer (piano), whose respective melodies weave gently in and out, sometimes steady, sometimes aching, sometimes receding altogether in deference to less overtly musical sounds. That is, percussive texture in the form of unvarnished samples and field recordings: the rattle and rustle and the stops and starts of life unfurling, voices sharing memories nearly out of reach, doors closing, wind against a microphone. Everything comes from somewhere in particular, possessing the veneer of the diaristic, but sound’s provenance is secondary here and so these details become tangled and fused. On this release I hear such details not as individual ornaments or stories but the collective architecture of the greater composition. It’s an architecture that is not quite formed and thus full of openings out to the world unfolding. “The world unfolding,” that’s a kind way of saying change, movement, loss, transformation. Things rousay here indexes, not without shards of desire or pain, still somehow what I hear is coarse peace in the in-between. These two pieces sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Where am I now? What is different outside of me? What is different inside of me? Um. I think. everything is perfect is already here, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.The music guides a certain experience of the world around. In claire’s music there is this marriage—not just a pairing or juxtaposition but an interrelationship, an eventual confusion—of song/texture, narrative/abstraction, figure/ground. Everything comes from somewhere in particular but not just the voices, the field recordings, the what is being said or meant, what matters is “the where you are now.” There are so many ways of anchoring oneself in the present, some have to do with fantasy or storytelling and some with accepting what is.These two compositions find peace between these modes. They sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Their mode of feeling is inquisitive. Where am I now? What has changed outside of me? What has changed inside of me? The music, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

Hampus Lindwall is a musical artist active in many fields ranging from contemporary music to experimental and electronic sound / music. He has released many albums, as a soloist and in collaboration and is the titular organist in Saint-Esprit, Paris, since 2005.::::::​​As 2024 came to a close, in New York and Paris chords rang out from thirty-two-foot pipes for the first time in half a decade. Following twin fires in 2019, the grand organs at the cathedrals of St John the Divine and Notre-Dame, amongst the largest instruments in their respective countries, had finally been restored. The news was justly celebrated in the international press, but the incidents were far from isolated. In England, the city of Norwich hailed the return of its cathedral’s five manual organ in 2023 and just two years earlier York Minster heralded a “once-in-a-century” refurbishment of its own 5,000-plus pipe instrument. Meanwhile, further organ restoration projects are ongoing at churches in Liverpool, Bradford, Bristol, Winchester, and Washington DC. Significant as they are to their respective communities, they’re also emblematic of a wider rebirth for one of humanity’s oldest musical instruments. The organ is having a moment. Over the last few years, albums by the likes of Kali Malone, Ellen Arkbro, Anna von Hausswolff, FUJI|||||||||||TA, and Áine O’Dwyer, as well as projects in the visual arts by Sollmann Sprenger, Cory Arcangel, Massimo Bartolini and many other talented artists, have given a new prominence to the old ecclesiastical stalwart. The pipe organ bears historical traces which stretch back to the third century BC. But that doesn't mean it can't speak to a contemporary moment haunted by algorithms and networked culture. Hampus Lindwall’s Brace for Impact is an album of organ music for today.Things nearly turned out very differently for Lindwall. Were it not for a simple twist of fate, the guy now occupying the organist’s chair at the church of Saint-Esprit in Paris, occasional collaborator with Phill Niblock, Leif Elggren and Susana Santos Silva among many others, might well have wound up in the world of pop music. In the 1990s, as the Stockholm club scene started taking off, Lindwall found himself moving in the same circles as the electronic music artists connected to the city’s legendary Cheiron studios. The aesthetics of 90s rave remains an important part of his musical DNA to this day. Born in the Swedish capital in 1976, Lindwall learned his chops copying the solos on Steve Vai records. It was only later, towards the end of his teens, that he even started playing keyboard instruments. When seeking to enter Stockholm’s prestigious Royal College of Music, Lindwall tendered two applications: to the jazz department, as a guitarist, and to the classical music department, as an organist. He was sure he would be accepted with the guitar. In the end, he was rejected from the jazz department for spurious reasons, inadvertently setting Lindwall on a path to becoming a classical organist.Brace for Impact sees Lindwall returning to the scene of his adolescent obsessions. It’s an album of five recent contemporary classical compositions, all performed by the composer himself on the seventy-eight stop organ at St. Antonius church in Düsseldorf. It’s also a highly visceral forty-five minutes of music with undeniable elemental power.The title track proposes a historical counterfactual equal and opposite to its author’s own youthful fortuity: what if fate had somehow barred Iannis Xenakis from becoming the pioneering architect and composer remembered by history and instead led him to join a metal band? Inspired by the searing glissando that opens the Greek musician’s seminal (1953–4) work Metastaseis, the piece pairs a series of rip-roaring slides on a highly saturated and distorted electric guitar (performed by collaborator and SUNN O))) founding member, Stephen O’Malley) with the halting attempt of Lindwall’s instrument to follow it, in spite of the discrete nature of the individual keys on its manuals. It’s an electrifying piece of music, slapping the listener round the face straight out of the gate at the start of the record. But it’s also a deft study on the uneasy relation between analogue curves and digital steps.Brace for Impact might just be the first album of post-internet organ music. Like a performance by Dutch artists JODI, it is a record weaned on networked processes and algorithmic thinking, a suite of tracks which build their own systems then push them to the point of collapse. Lindwall is not a programmer, but he will wield whatever technology is ready to hand much as Chopin made use of the richer, fuller sound of an Erard piano. From the software subtly weirding the interior textures of ‘Swerve’ and ‘Piping’ to the juddering, kernel panic of ‘AFK’ and ‘À bruit secret’, these are works of music unthinkable without the ubiquitous experience of life lived online. Imparting that hypermodern aesthetic sensibility through the austere sound of a baroque organ only heightens the anachronistic sense of temporal disjuncture characteristic of days spent rabbit-holing through ever-multiplying stacks of browser windows. The vernacular of Web 2.0 is here re-transcribed in the ornate script of a medieval illuminated manuscript.Artist and blogger Brad Troemel (aka The Jogging) once compared the practices of his own cohort of digital natives to the non-retinal strategies of Marcel Duchamp a century earlier. “Duchamp’s readymade came at a time of transition when consumers were first buying mass-produced goods,” he notes. “During Duchamp’s era, the word ‘readymade’ referred to the objects in one’s home that were not handmade. And for the generation of artists coming of age today, it is the high-volume, fast-paced endeavour of social media’s attention economy that mimics the digital economy of stock-trading, a market increasingly dominated by computer-automated algorithmic trades.” Lindwall, equally, regards the elements comprising the material for his music like so many pre-given readymades ripe to be appropriated. ‘À bruit secret’ feeds the whole fifty-six note run of the organ keyboard into a random number generator before being variously manipulated like a Schoenbergian tone row built from the standardised limits of the instrument. The use of commercial software even spurred Lindwall to name the track after Duchamp’s (1916) sculpture with an unknown rattling object inside. Starting the album with the jagged crunch of an E major guitar chord followed by an interval leap of a minor sixth up to C felt, to Lindwall, like a sort of citation – whether from Chopin or Yngwie Mamlsteen (possibly both).As a conservatoire student, Lindwall felt he had to leave his passion for guitar behind, as if there were no room for those ideas within the formality of the music establishment. Only later did he come to see it as a resource he could draw on, a deep well of subcultural knowledge to be mined, just as Bartók once excavated the folk songs of his native Hungary. Lindwall cites Jeff Koons, who once claimed he only found his voice as an artist when he started looking to the kitschy objects sold in his father’s antique shop while he was growing up. In this sense, at least, Brace for Impact may represent the organist’s oeuvre at its most arch and conceptual – but it also finds him at his most personal. This is an album borne of obsessions, with an obsessive’s attention to the details of sound and structure. It is also an absolute blast: a record of ferocious immediacy with one foot in the distant past and eyes firmly fixed upon the future.

The first vocal album by beloved Ethiopian nun, composer, and pianist Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru - profound and deeply moving home cassette recordings made amidst political upheaval and turmoil. These are songs of wisdom, loss, mourning, and exile, sung directly into a boombox and accompanied by Emahoy’s unmistakable piano. Though written and recorded while still living at her family’s home in Addis Ababa, Emahoy sings of the heartache of leaving her beloved Ethiopia, a reflection on the 1974 revolution and ensuing Red Terror in her homeland, and a presentiment of her future exile in Jerusalem. In the 21st century, Emahoy has become known worldwide for her utterly unique melodic and rhythmic style. Commonly misinterpreted as “jazzy” or “honky tonk,” Emahoy’s music actually comes from a deep engagement with the Western classical tradition, mixed with her background in Ethiopian traditional and Orthodox music. These songs, recorded between 1977-1985, are different from anything previously released by the artist. Rich with the sound of birds outside the window, the creak of the piano bench, the thump of Emahoy’s finger on the record button, they create a sense of place, of being near the artist while she records. Emahoy’s lyrics, sung in Amharic, are poetic and heavy with the weight of exile. “When I looked out / past the clouds / I couldn’t see my country’s sky / Have I really gone so far?” she asks in “Is It Sunny or Cloudy in the Land You Live?” Her vocals are delicate and heartfelt, tracing the melodic contours of her piano on songs like “Where Is the Highway of Thought?” “Tenkou! Why Feel Sorry?,” a career highlight that closes out her self-titled Mississippi album (MRP-099), is revisited here with vocals. Originally composed for her niece, Tenkou, the lyrics clarify the song title we’ve wondered about for so many years. “Don’t cry / Childhood won’t come back / Let it go with love Emahoy dreamt of releasing this music to a larger audience before her passing in March of 2023. We are proud to release this music, in collaboration with her family, now, in what would have been her 100th year. LP comes with a 16-page booklet full-color booklet. Gold cover first edition, pressed in both black and gold vinyl editions.  All songs composed and recorded by Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru, Addis Ababa, 1977–1985

Shutting Down Here is a special work. Symbolically, it covers a period of thirty years, between two visits by Jim O'Rourke to the GRM, the first, as a young man fascinated by the institution and his repertoire, the second, as an accomplished musician, influential and imbued with an aura of mystery. Shutting Down Here is a piece shaped like an universe, a heterogeneous world in which collides the multiple musical facets of Jim O'Rourke: instrumental writing, field recordings, electronic textures and cybernetic becomings, dynamic spaces, harmonic spaces, silent spans . This variety of approach, strangely, does not in any way weaken the coherence of the whole and this is the talent of Jim O'Rourke, a talent, properly speaking, of composition, where all the sound elements compete and participate to stakes that exceed them and of a common destiny, that is to say of an apparition.

Unreleased material composed by Bernard Parmegiani in 1992.Lac Noir - La Serpente is part of Emmanuel Raquin-Lorenzi's Lac Noir, a composite work inspired by a serpentine female creature or 'snake woman' that he saw in Transylvania in 1976, with a total of 33 pieces using various media, 24 by himself and 9 by other artists. All the materials used in Lac Noir were gathered on the land of the snake-woman between 1990 and 1992. The first coordinated broadcast ran from June to October 2019, like a theatrical display of media.At the end of May 1992, in Provence, in his Summer studio not far from the Montagne Sainte-Victoire, Bernard Parmegiani played me the first musical moments he had worked on from the sounds he and Christian Zanési had collected in Negreni in October 1990. A few days after this listening session, on 4th June, I wrote him a letter. I didn't mean to take control of what was to become the ninth movement of his composition, but to share with him some of the resonances I had heard in what he had composed, which mingled with my dreams and memories of the Transylvanian snake-woman, and outlined possible concordances with the other pieces underway for Lac Noir.In the midst of the garish chaos of the fair and its spectacular stunts, there could spread out - still, silent eye of the cyclone - the long waters of a lake. Calm waters. Patches cool but sensitive as skin. Between the waters there flows and ripples, there shows up and dives again a snake-woman born of the still waters. A sweet, good serpent whose song - strange and melodious, sensual, yet already tinged, as if bitten by the black depths, with bitterness; that of prescience, shading it with melancholy - is her very undulation, the rings of which appear, together or in turn, the way translucent veins overlap, slither over one another in a moving braid of metamorphoses.(extracts from notes by E. Raquin-Lorenzi)

Absolutely mindblowing recording, live from Cafe OTO on 9th July 2019!! Rich in musical associations yet utterly singular in its voice, joyous with an inner tranquility, the music of Natural Information Society is unlike any other being made today. Their sixth album in eleven years for Eremite records, Descension (Out of Our Constrictions) is the first to be recorded live, featuring a set from Cafe OTO with veteran English free-improv great Evan Parker, & the first to feature just one extended composition. The 75-minute performance, inspired by the galvanizing presence of Parker, is a sustained bacchanalia of collective ecstasy. You could call it their party album. This was the second time Parker played with NIS. Joshua Abrams: “Both times we played compositions with Evan in mind. I don’t tell Evan anything. He’s a free agent.”  The music is focused & malleable, energized & even-keeled, drawing on concepts of ensemble playing common to musics from many locations & eras without any one specific aesthetic realization completely defining it. --- Joshua Abrams guimbriLisa Alvarado harmonium & effectsMikel Patrick Avery drums Evan Parker soprano saxophoneJason Stein bass clarinet --- recorded: London, Cafe OTO, 2019-07-09 producers: Abrams & Michael Ehlers engineer: Jimmy Dunn cover painting: Lisa Alvarado --- Aguirre, 2021

When they performed a handful of concerts as a duo in the summer of 1998, Kristen Noguès and John Surman had already worked a lot on the interweaving of genres: Noguès had confronted traditional Breton music with contemporary music and Surman had changed his jazz into atmospheric numbers that would be amongst the finest recording on the ECM label. As a duo, the harpist and the saxophonist would go on to invent something different: free folk, traditional ambient, modal ‘fest-noz’ … it is difficult to label, because the duo Noguès / Surman is one of a kind. Diriaou, means “Thursday” in Breton. It is also the title of the first piece that Kristen Noguès and John Surman played together in 1991. Noguès learned the Breton language as a child, at the same time as the Celtic harp, – taking lessons with Denise Mégevand, who would go on to teach others, notably Alan Stivell. At the beginning of the 1970s, Noguès discovered Breton singing (soniou and gwerziou) At the beginning of the 1970s, she discovered the Breton song tradition (soniou and gwerziou) and became involved in Névénoé, a cooperative of traditional expression founded by Gérard Delahaye and Patrick Ewen. She recorded a single with the two musicians in 1974, then her first album, two years later. Everyone who has listened to Kristen Noguès debut Marc’h Gouez, is now aware of her mysterious plucked strings. Her art, leaving Brittany, would go on to take in all landscapes and folklores, in the same as that of John Surman, conceived a little further north including vernacular jazz, international fusion with Chris McGregor or Miroslav Vitouš, and exploring more personal territory. Remember the Cornish landscapes in one of the best albums on the ECM label : Road To Saint Ives. Kristen Noguès and John Surman thus shared an ‘extra-Celtic’ inspiration infused with free improvisation. On this recording, made in 1998 by Tanguy Le Doré at the Dre Ar Wenojenn festival, the duo uses original compositions which refer back to traditional songs (Maro Pontkalek, Le Scorff). The musicians then create fantastic impressions: Baz Valan, on which Noguès and Surman have a heavenly exchange; Kernow, on which the shared theme slowing disappears into the mist; Maro Pontkalek and Diriaou which move from the storm to the calm. Elsewhere, there is singing, first with Surman (Kleier) and then moving on to Noguès (Kerzhadenn and her signature song Berceuse). On a canvas of traditional music, the two musicians weave countless memorable landscapes.

the debut recording by the ancients, the intergenerational coalition of isaiah collier, william hooker, & william parker formed by parker to play concerts in conjunction with the milford graves mind body deal exhibition at the institute of contemporary art los angeles & now a working group. across x2LPs of side-length long-form improvised sets recorded at 2220 arts&archives; in LA & the chapel in san francisco, the ancients bring the free jazz trio languages first explored by the cecil taylor unit & ornette coleman’s -golden circle- band (expanded upon in later eras by sam rivers' trio & parker’s collective trios with charles gayle/graves & peter brötzmann/hamid drake) into their own unique & scintillating realms of expression. as we tumble further into the throes of history’s tides, people of hope & creativity rely on the works of our great artists to lift our spirits & focus our resolve. -ascension- was recorded less than a year after the passage of the civil rights act & four months after the assassination of malcolm x. -journey in satchidananda- was recorded the month reagan was re-elected governor of california. m’boom made its debut recording weeks after the watergate scandal broke & a couple months after the wounded knee occupation ended. the music of the ancients builds on these great musical legacies. it resounds with the pride of survival & the joys of making & sharing music. it delivers to us hope & balm. something real in you, real in history, & real in the music is shared, right on time. when eremite records commenced operations during the 1990s free jazz resurgence, heavyweight freedom-seeking tenor saxophonists such as fred anderson, peter brötzmann, charles gayle, kidd jordan, & david s. ware were at the height of their powers. isaiah collier’s tenor playing in the ancients is bracing testimony that the wellspring lives on. to hear the young chicago firebrand blowing freely with veteran improvisers in an entirely open-form group music is a revelatory study of his vast talent, personal voice, & the intensity of his expression —as well as a bold complement to his composition-based albums as a bandleader (including -the almighty-, a new york times' best albums of 2024 selection). i've admired drummer william hooker since first encountering his music in a hartford ct city park, early ‘90s (on a double bill with jerry gonzález & fort apache band). from the man himself right off the bandstand i bought his even-then rare 1st recording, the 1976 self-released x2LP opus -is eternal life- (reissued 2019 by superior viaduct). an imposing force on his instrument & an intrepid DIY cat, hooker’s been exuberantly swinging in&out; of free time for 50+ years. informed by the innovations of sunny murray & tony williams yet entirely himself, there is no other term for it than “pure hooker.” at age 78, with the ancients & everywhere else, THE HOOK is in peak form. with a discography approaching 600 entries & 50+ years working across the musical maps, including in the history-defining bands of don cherry, cecil taylor, bill dixon, peter brötzmann, in his own wondrous ensembles from small group to orchestra to opera, a bastion of compassionate leadership & a poetic champion of his musical community, in tireless service to what he rather egolessly refers to as “the tone world”, multi-instrumentalist, improviser & composer william parker is a living hero of the grassroots & the black mystery musics, not to mention one of the great bassists in the history of jazz. to quote george clinton, conquering the stumbling blocks comes easier when the conqueror is in tune with the infinite. free jazz is an enduring high art. its greatest expressions belong to their particular moment in history, & live on to transcend & refract in amaranthine ways. inside our present historical moment, we are fortunate to have the master musicians in the ancients bringing us their high level creation. concerts & album co-produced with the black editions group. 1st eremite edition of 1,299 copies pressed on premium audiophile-quality 140 gram vinyl at fidelity record pressing, from kevin gray/cohearent audio lacquers. live to 2-track concert recordings by bryce gonzales, highland dynamics. mastered by joe lizzi, queens, ny. 1st 150 direct order copies include a reproduction of zac brenner’s amtrak “fan art” flyer for the ancients 2023 west coast concerts. 1st 300 direct order copies include eremite’s signature retro-audiophile inner-sleeves, hand screen-printed by alan sherry, siwa studios, northern new mexico. "Eremite Records has just released an eponymous two-LP set by a band called The Ancients, made up of bassist William Parker, drummer William Hooker, and saxophonist Isaiah Collier. It reflects the label’s long-standing advocacy, begun in the 1990s, of free jazz, often in its most intense form. In the past three years, Michael Ehlers has been instrumental in releasing a series of recordings from Milford Graves’ personal archives, issued under the label Black Editions Archive, a new partnership between Peter Kolovos and Ehlers under the umbrella of Black Editions Group. Two of those recordings were trios with Parker and Graves, a giant of free jazz drumming. The first, a two-LP set, Historic Music Past Tense Future included Peter Brötzmann in a recording from CBGB’s 313 Gallery in 2002. The second WEBO, a three-LP set released last year, had Charles Gayle as tenor saxophonist in performances from 1991. As Ehlers describes the partnership, “Peter pitched me an idea to collaborate on a new historical free jazz imprint for his label Black Editions Group. The pitch was basically ‘bring me the baddest shit you’ve got that you don’t have the resources to produce on your own.’ I called Milford Graves the next day and spent the rest of 2020 on the phone with him discussing the acquisition of a substantial piece of his tape archive on Peter’s behalf.” Both sets spoke with incredible force. Graves in both instances was making rare appearances in public and on record, and laying down as much compound, liberating rhythm as anyone might conceive. Parker was similarly inspired, and the saxophonists were giving performances as powerful as they ever had, 25 to 40 years from the explosive dawn of the idiom as developed by Albert Ayler, John Coltrane, and Pharoah Sanders, the era in which Brötzmann had emerged in Wuppertal, Germany and Gayle in Buffalo, New York. Even at first glance, the two-LP release of The Ancients reveals an immediate closeness with those two other releases Historic Music Past Tense Future and WEBO. The Ancients, however, is contemporary, following Graves’ passing in 2021. It was recorded in California in 2023 by a band “formed by Parker to play concerts in conjunction with the Milford Graves Mind Body Deal exhibition at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles.” It represents a special segment of the free jazz tradition, whether it’s called “spiritual jazz” or “energy music,” a branch that Ehlers has lovingly recorded and released since the 1990s. There’s something special about that name, The Ancients, which functions here to name the trio and the records and might name the genre, a wonderful turn on a music that was once called the “new thing.” It’s a music that is both tied to black cultural freedom, as Ehlers makes clear in the record’s info sheet, but also to an on-going cultural expression. Those previous releases with Parker and Graves, as different as they are, have been among the most powerful music released on record in recent years, further confirmation of Graves’ special power and the commitment of each of those musicians. Its ties to black expression and culture are central, and in each of these occasions has a kind of sacramental quality, born of a special intensity. If in its sixty five-year phase of jazz history, it has at times seemed bracketed out of much jazz dialogue and journalism, it may well be because of its special power, its centrifugal force. It’s one of the musics that mean the most, and its relationship to other jazz is tangential. My personal term for this music is eschatology jazz (jazz that expresses knowledge of the last days), and its companion term is jazz eschatology (the last days of jazz). It’s now built into jazz history, however uncomfortably, in the late work of John Coltrane and the music of Albert Ayler. Considered as a style, it's always the last word in jazz, and at times might even be considered the ritual sacrifice of the audience. It is both tied up with “knowledge of the last days” and a kind of “last days” jazz, that is, somehow, outside jazz as a progression of “styles” which jazz has sometimes become in a blandly sophisticated marketplace. It makes perfect sense that the one-time “new thing” would now reveal itself as The Ancients, music as old as the energies invoked in Randy Weston at a Gnawa healing ceremony. I discovered jazz as a child partly through television, most notably The Sound of Jazz and Miles Davis’ appearance Robert Herridge Presents. In the fall/winter of 1961-62, I both entered high school and discovered free jazz. I realize now that the mood of the times – the civil rights struggle, the cold war, and the Cuban missile crisis (just as immediate in Canada as in the United States) – and the music I discovered I needed had a special relationship. When you’re told to crouch under your desk, a 3/4” slab of wood between you and annihilation, Ornette Coleman’s Free Jazz, Charles Mingus’ “Haitian Fight Song,” and John Coltrane’s “Chasin’ the Trane” make perfect sense. The music would grow even more intense in the next few years, until it exploded with Albert Ayler’s Bells and Coltrane’s quintet with Pharoah Sanders and Rashied Ali. Both came with apocalyptic --religiously apocalyptic--imagery and force. It’s that spirit that inhabits the music of The Ancients, and it may feel even more insistently contemporary than it did when it was recorded in 2023. Parker’s strengths are even more prominent with The Ancients than on the discs with Gayle, Brötzmann and Graves, the latter a virtual drum corps rather than a single musician. An essential root and foundation, the bassist comes rightfully to the fore in a sonic balance that foregrounds his essential component. No currently active musician more authentically channels the New York “new thing” of the mid-sixties than Parker, and in part it’s his relationship to the bass playing of Lewis Worrell, a rarely mentioned musician who Parker readily references. Lewis Worrell had a bass style all his own, no doubt developed far from any bass player’s academy, whether Koussevitsky’s, Jimmy Blanton’s, Paul Chambers’, or Scott LaFaro’s. Worrell might share the term “claw hammer” with five-string banjo, though it’s distinctly a bass, a swarming multi-string approach, out of which short melodic phrases erupt. Parker maintains both a fundamental pulse and a compound drone, each note resonating with the preceding and the fundamental, a thick, grouped thrum. Worrell appeared on both the New York Art Quartet’s eponymous ESP-Disk (with Milford Graves) and (less audibly) Albert Ayler’s Bells. It's this legacy that informs The Ancients and inevitably extends to Hooker, a veteran and contemporary of both Graves and Parker, whose forceful, propulsive drumming covers a substantial spectrum of densities from spare to thunderous. While one might expect inspired performances from Hooker and Parker, there’s undoubtedly something special here, both in the homage to Graves and the extraordinary performance of tenor saxophonist Isaiah Collier, a musician roughly fifty years their junior who is virtually channeling the authentic energy of the 1960s, finding his own voice that yet touches on Albert Ayler and Sonny Rollins (no easy range) and a few others. Each side of the two-LP set comes from a different performance, each fading out between 22 and 24 minutes. Sides A to C come from two days at 2022 Arts & Archives in Los Angeles; Side D from The Chapel in San Francisco. None of the performances is “complete,” eventually fading out, but one might consider that tacit recognition that one is listening to a record and is a reasonable compromise between fidelity and duration. True to the improvisers’ goal, the four performances are very different, from their opening premises and voices to their developing dynamics, evolution, and emotion. Each, as far as it goes, is a distinct, well-formed musical Odyssey, by a trio that manages to sound at once like they’ve just met and have been playing together for years. Each is also a study in transformation. Side A (2023-05-12 Set II) begins in gospel suffused reverie then passes through numerous evolutions to end in wrenching shout and thrashing percussion. Side B (2023-05-13 Set I) has stretches of remarkable minimalism, the trio reduced to single drum strokes, punctuating bass tones and saxophone yips, only to conclude with Parker playing hojǒk, a keening Korean woodwind. That feeling of immediate spirit-calling arises as well on Side C (2023-05-13 Set II). Collier demonstrates sustained development and expansion of materials, eventually relaxing the long tension curve before the side fades amidst a concluding melody. Side D (2023-05-15 Set I) stretches to musical riot, with dense bass, drums, and shouts eventually prodding Collier’s ultimate cataclysm of sound, beginning with a siren and eventually alternating (one assumes from the instrument list) Aztec death whistle and the squall of overblown tenor. It’s a series of memorable performances and fitting tribute to Milford Graves’ expansive art." -Stuart Broomer, Point of Departure "When I first heard about the trio documented on The Ancients, I was thrilled. Saxophonist Isaiah Collier has been making a lot of waves in the last few years, primarily as the leader of his group the Chosen Few (who made four albums, including two released in 2024, before disbanding), but also in the duo I AM with percussionist Michael Shekwoaga and on a direct-to-disc session released under his own name. His music is socially engaged spiritual jazz, a point on a line that runs from John Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders to Gary Bartz to Charles Gayle to Kamasi Washington…and particularly through Roscoe Mitchell and Ari Brown and Fred Anderson, because Collier is emphatically a Chicago musician. What’s compelling about his approach is that he’s a synthesist who takes bebop, R&B;, soul, gospel and free jazz and combines them all in ways that showcase the best aspects of each. His playing is emotional, but grounded, and structured in a way that allows you to follow his musical statements from beginning to end. In an interview in the fourth volume of trumpeter Jeremy Pelt’s Griot book series, Collier says, “You can’t know freedom if you don’t know restriction. There’s a balance to all this stuff. Even playing free isn’t playing free. I learned that playing with Denardo Coleman. I learned that playing with William Parker. I learned that playing with Ernest Dawkins. I learned that studying with Roscoe Mitchell. There are prerequisites to this stuff.” And as that statement proves, Collier is someone who knows what he doesn’t know and seeks out opportunities to gain that knowledge, by playing with musicians generations older than himself, as he does here. Drummer William Hooker has been performing for almost 50 years, self-releasing his debut album, …Is Eternal Life, in 1977. His music spans free jazz, noise rock (he’s recorded duo albums with both Sonic Youth guitarists, Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo) and indescribable zones of pure sonic exploration. Bassist William Parker is, of course, William goddamn Parker, a legend of avant-jazz who’s played with everyone you’ve ever heard of and led a thousand brilliant bands. This double live LP features recordings from three nights of shows — May 12 and 13, 2023 at 2220 Arts & Archives in Los Angeles and May 15 at The Chapel in San Francisco. It’s a breathtaking 90 minutes of three-way interaction, two ascended masters supporting a new but very promising disciple. Collier borrows from the AACM, from Pharoah Sanders, from Charles Gayle, and from bebop (I swear he quotes “Salt Peanuts”), while Parker makes his bass sound like a guembri, a donso ngoni, a guitar, and someone beating their palms against the inside of a wooden ship’s hold, and Hooker’s drumming is heavy foot and precise snare, plus some of the most amazing cymbal washes you’ll ever hear. This is “free jazz” as ancestral lore being passed down live in the moment. Forty years from now, Isaiah Collier will be teaching it to musicians in their twenties who heard these recordings and sought him out." -Phil Freeman, Stereogum "The Ancients is intensely focused 21st century free jazz via a shared and inspired bandstand consciousness. It exists without aimless noodling or egotism." -Thom Jurek, All Music "The minute that this record was announced it shot straight to the top of my anticipated list for 2025. Thankfully, the January release means that we don’t have to wait that long, and the arrival of The Ancients more than lives up to expectations. Anchored by jazz luminaries William Hooker and William Parker, themselves no strangers to collaboration over the years, the pair folds a slightly newer name into the mix. Isaiah Collier has already been on the radar here with his outfit The Chosen Few, backing Angel Bat David in Tha Brothahood, and as a guest with The Heavy Lidders at Milwaukee Psych Fest. Here, he proves more than capable of sparring with his more well-known partners, devouring styles that swing from soul jazz to the scars and squeals of the free set. The album’s main energy stems from Collier’s willingness to both give and receive energy from other points in the trio, scrawling his runs across the speakers in blood one minute and riding the rhythm like surf in the next. That rhythm is, as expected, completely hypnotic. At this point Hooker and Parker have spent years perfecting their way around and through the maelstrom, but it’s nothing short of amazing to hear the two of them work the rudder here. The record is comprised of two sets recorded at 2220 Arts & Archives in LA and one set from The Chapel in San Francisco. The former set dominates, a turbulent bout of avant-jazz that offers to turn sweat to steam in a matter of instants. Capped with a run at The Chapel, the closer is no calmer eddy, instead letting the marrow boil out of the listener with a swipe at Hooker’s noise-adjacent past. Eremite has had an untouchable run of late and this debut from The Ancients instantly lodges itself among the label’s highlights." -Andy French, Raven Sings the Blues "Free jazz trio spanning decades of interest, with recent Chicago tenor sax heatseeker Isaiah Collier merging against a rhythm section of Wm. Parker and William Hooker, recorded live by Bryce Gonzales (who engineered that marvelous Jeff Parker ETA IVtet record from a few months back) from sets in Los Angeles and San Francisco. Parker never stops, ever, but it’s been a while since Hooker’s entered my sphere (he’s truly something, humbled a bit but cracking off snare hits like rifle practice), and Collier’s fiery works like in his duo I AM have given rise to a new generation of sax deities, in the tradition of Fred Anderson (doesn’t come out to shred lungs, though it’ll happen; more focused on soulful tone and expression, and that jazz lives in space between the notes, too). This’ll peel paint when appropriate, but unlike the ‘90s output involving 2/3 of this trio, that’s not the primary target; incredible stretches of groove set in amidst these epic sides, all three participants not only loud/clear but in spatial relation to one another (Collier’s panned hard left, Hooker’s on the right, and Parker’s down the middle like the 7-10 split), every thwack, scream and valve slam rendered with the utmost clarity. LA gets the most of this album but SF gets the nut cracker on side 4, Collier playing with some sort of toy siren/ring mod in the home stretch that renders his instrument a high-tone belt sander alarm, something in my decades of enjoying jazz I’ve never heard before. Lots of reasons to lose faith these days but here, my friends, is belief restored." --Doug Mosurock, Heathendisco

-Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy-, x2 LPs of long-form, lyrical, groove-based free improv by acclaimed guitarist & composer Jeff Parker's ETA IVtet is at last here. Recorded live at ETA (referencing David Foster Wallace), a bar in LA’s Highland Park neighborhood with just enough space in the back for Parker, drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, & alto saxophonist Josh Johnson to convene in extraordinarily depthful & exploratory music making. Gleaned for the stoniest side-length cuts from 10+ hours of vivid two-track recordings made between 2019 & 2021 by Bryce Gonzales, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- is a darkly glowing séance of an album, brimming over with the hypnotic, the melodic, & patience & grace in its own beautiful strangeness. Room-tone, electric fields, environment, ceiling echo, live recording, Mondays, Los Angeles. Jeff Parker's first double album & first live album, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- belongs in the lineage of such canonical live double albums recorded on the West Coast as Lee Morgan’s -Live at the Lighthouse-, Miles Davis' -In Person Friday & Saturday Night at the Blackhawk, San Francisco- & -Black Beauty-, & John Coltrane's -Live in Seattle-. While the IVtet sometimes plays standards &, including on this recording, original compositions, it is as previously stated largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term. The music is more free composition than free improvisation, more blending than discordant. It’s tensile, yet spacious & relaxed. Clearly all four musicians have spent significant time in the planetary system known as jazz, but relationships to other musics, across many scenes & eras —dub & Dilla, primary source psychedelia, ambient & drone— suffuse the proceedings. Listening to playbacks Parker remarked, humorously & not, “we sound like the Byrds” (to certain ears, the Clarence White-era Byrds, who really stretched it). A fundamental of all great ensembles, whether basketball teams or bands, is the ability of each member to move fluidly & fluently in & out of lead & supportive roles. Building on the communicative pathways they’ve established in Parker’s -The New Breed- project, Parker & Johnson maintain a constant dialogue of lead & support. Their sampled & looped phrases move continuously thru the music, layered & alive, adding depth & texture & pattern, evoking birds in formation, sea creatures drifting below the photic zone. Or, the two musicians simulate those processes by entwining their terse, clear-lined playing in real-time. The stop/start flow of Bellerose, too, simulates the sampler, recalling drum parts in Parker’s beat-driven projects. Mostly Bellerose's animated phraseologies deliver the inimitable instantaneous feel of live creative drumming. The range of tonal colors he conjures from his extremely vintage battery of drums & shakers —as distinctive a sonic signature as we have in contemporary acoustic drumming— bring almost folkloric qualities to the aesthetic currency of the IVtet's language. A wonderful revelation in this band is the playing of Anna Butterss. The strength, judiciousness & humility with which she navigates the bass position both ground & lift upward the egalitarian group sound. As the IVtet's grooves flow & clip, loop & repeat, the ensemble elements reconfigure, a terrarium of musical cultivation growing under controlled variables, a tight experiment of harmony & intuition, deep focus & freedom. For all its varied sonic personality, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- scans immediately & unmistakably as music coming from Jeff Parker‘s unique sound world. Generous in spirit, trenchant & disciplined in execution, Parker’s music has an earned respect for itself & for its place in history that transmutes through the musical event into the listener. Many moods & shapes of heart & mind will find utility & hope in a music that combines the autonomy & the community we collectively long to see take hold in our world, in substance & in staying power. On the personal tip, this was always my favorite gig to hit, a lifeline of the eremite records Santa Barbara years. Mondays southbound on the 101, driving away from tasks & screens & illness, an hour later ordering a double tequila neat at the bar with the band three feet away, knowing i was in good hands, knowing it would be back around on another Monday. To encounter life at scales beyond the human body is the collective dance of music & the beholding of its beauty, together. —Michael Ehlers & Zac Brenner Pressed on premium audiophile-quality 120 gram vinyl at RTI from Kevin Gray / Cohearent Audio lacquers. Mastered by Joe Lizzi, Triple Point Records, Queens, NY. First eremite edition of 1799 copies. First 400 direct order LPs come with eremite’s signature retro-audiophile inner-sleeves, hand screen-printed by Alan Sherry, Siwa Studios, northern New Mexico. CD edition & EU x2LP edition available thru our EU partner, Aguirre records, Belgium. Jeff Parker synthesizes jazz and hip-hop with an appealingly light touch. The longtime Tortoise guitarist has a silken, clean-cut tone, yet his production takes more cues from DJ Premier than it does from a classic mid-century jazz sound. In the early ’00s, when Madlib ushered a boom-bap sensibility into the hallowed halls of the jazz label Blue Note, Parker conducted his own experiments in genre-mashing in the Chicago group Isotope 217, dragging jaunty hip-hop rhythms into the far reaches of computerized abstraction. More recently, Parker enlivened quantized beats and chopped-up samples with live instrumentation, both as leader of the New Breed and sideman to Makaya McCraven. Inverting rap’s longtime reverence for jazz, Parker has gradually codified a new language for the so-called “American art form” with a vocabulary gleaned from the United States’ next great contribution to the musical universe. Parker’s latest, the live double LP Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy, was largely recorded in 2019, while his star as a solo artist was steeply ascending. Capturing a few intimate evenings with drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and New Breed saxophonist Josh Johnson at ETA, a cozy Los Angeles cocktail bar, the record anticipates his 2020 opus with the New Breed, Suite for Max Brown. Yet Mondays amounts to something novel in 2022: It lays out long-form spiritual jazz, knotty melodies, and effortless solos over a slow-moving foundation as consistent as an 808. The results are as mesmerizing as a luxurious, beatific ambient record—yet at the same time, it’s clear that all of this is happening within the inherently messy confines of an improvisatory concert. Across four side-long tracks, each spanning about 20 minutes, Parker and Johnson trade ostinatos, mesh together, split again into polyrhythmic call-and-response. Butterss commands the pocket with a photonegative of their lead lines, often freed from rhythmic responsibilities by the drums’ relentlessness. Bellerose exhibits a Neu!-like sense of consistency, just screwed down a whole bunch of BPMs. His kit sounds as dusty as an old sample, and his hypnotic rhythms evoke humanizers of the drum machine such as J Dilla or RZA. You could spend the album’s 84-minute runtime listening only to the beats; every shift in pattern queues a new movement in the compositions, beaming a timeframe from the bottom up. Bellerose’s sensitive, reactive playing, though, is unmistakably live. We can practically see the sweat beading on his arm when he holds steady on a ride cymbal for minutes on end, or plays a shaker for a whole LP side. He begins the understated opener “2019-07-08 I” with feather-soft brush swirls, but on the second cut, he sets Mondays’ stride, as a simple bell pattern builds into a leisurely rhythmic stroll. Thirteen minutes in, the mood breaks. Bellerose hits some heavy quarter notes on his hi-hat; Butterss leans into a fat bassline; saxophone arpeggios, probably looped, float in front of us like smoke rings lingering in the air. It’s a glorious moment, punctuated by clinking glasses and a distant “whoo!” so perfectly placed we become aware of not only the setting, but also the supple knob-turns of engineer Bryce Gonzales in post-production. Anyone who’s heard great improvisation at a bar in the company of both jazzheads and puzzled onlookers knows this dynamic—for some, the music was incidental. Others experienced a revelation. Lodged in this familiar situation is the question of what such “ambient jazz” means to accomplish—whether it wants to occupy the center of our consciousnesses, or resign itself to the background. The record’s perpetual soloing offers an answer. Never screechy, grating, or aggressive, each performance is nonetheless highly individual. Even when the quartet settles into an extended groove, a spotlight shines on Johnson, Butterss, and Parker in turn, steadily illuminating a perpetual sense of invention. Their interplay feels almost traditional, suggesting bandstand trade-offs of yore, yet the open-ended structure of their jams keeps it unconventional. Mondays works in layers: Its metronomic rhythms pacify, but the performers and their idiosyncratic expressions offer ample material to those interested in hearing young luminaries and seasoned vets swap ideas within a group. In 2020, Johnson dropped his first record under his own name, the excellent, daringly melodic Freedom Exercise, while Butterss’ recent debut as bandleader, Activities, is one of the most exciting, undersung jazz releases of 2022. Akin to Parker’s early experiments with Tortoise and Chicago Underground, Johnson and Butterss’ recordings both revel in electronic textures, and each features the other as a collaborator. Mondays captures them as their mature playing styles gain sea legs atop the rudder of Parker’s guitar. The only track recorded after the pandemic began, closer “2021-04-28” sculpts the record’s loping structure, giving retrospective shape to the preceding hour of ambience. In the middle of the song, Parker’s guitar slows to a yawn; the drums pipe down. After a couple minutes of drone, Bellerose slips back into the mix alongside a precisely phrased guitar line strummed on the upper frets, punctuated by saxophone accents that exclaim with the force of an eager hype man. Beginning with a murmur, the album ends with a bracing statement, a passage so articulated that it actually feels spoken. Mondays drifts with unhurried purpose through genres and ideas, imprinted with the passage of time. The deliberate, thumping clock of its drumbeat keeps duration in mind, and, as with so many live albums, we’re reminded of how circumstances have changed since the sessions were recorded. Truly, life is different than it was in 2019—and not just in terms of world politics, climate change, the threat of disease, or the reality that making a living in music is harder than ever. Seemingly catalyzed by COVID-19’s deadly, isolating scourge, jazz has transformed, hybridized, and weakened tired arguments for musical stratification and fundamentalism. Even calling Mondays a “live” album is a simplification, considering how Parker and other top jazz brains have increasingly availed themselves of the studio—including, in a sparing yet dramatic way, on Mondays. Near the end of the first track, the tape slows abruptly. The plane of the song opens to another dimension: This set, Parker seems to be saying, can be manipulated with the ease of a vinyl platter beneath a DJ’s fingers. Parker’s latest may be his first live album, but it’s also the product of a mad scientist, cackling over a mixing board. Time is dilated, curated, edited, and intercut, and the very live-ness of a concert recording turns fascinatingly, fruitfully convoluted—even when the artists responsible are four players participating in the age-old custom of jamming together in a room. --Daneil Felsenthal, Pitchfork, 8.4 Best New Music Turn to Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy and you’re in another world. Recorded live (it’s apparently Parker’s first live record) between 2019 and 2021 at a bar in Los Angeles’ Highland Park neighborhood that’s named for the principal setting of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest(and Parker’s ETA 4tet named, in turn, for the room). As producer Michael Ehlers points out in a press sheet, It is “largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term.” Mondays… will include all the things that free improvisation leaves out, modes, melodies, key centres and regular (though often multiple) rhythms; in effect, the musicians are free to include the conventionally excluded. It’s a kind of perfect opposite of Eastside Romp – clear tunes rarely define a piece, there’s no solo order, actually few solos, no formal beginnings or endings – instead substituting the extended jam for the tight knit composition. It’s a two-LP set, each side an excerpt from a long collective improvisation, a kind of electronic jazz version of hypnotic minimalism with Parker and saxophonist Josh Johnson both employing loops to build up interlocking rhythmic patterns and a kind of floating, layered timelessness, while bassist Anna Butterss and drummer/ percussionist Jay Bellerose lay down pliable fundamentals. Often and delightfully, it answers this listener’s specific auditory needs, a bright shifting soundscape that can begin in mid-phrase and eventually fade away, not beginning, not ending, like Heaven’s Muzak or the abstract decorative art of the Alhambra. It can sound at times like, fifty years on, Grant Green has added his clear lines to the kind of work that over 50 years ago filtered from Terry Riley to musicians from jazz, rock and minimalism. Though the tunes are described as excerpts, we often have what seem to be beginnings, the faint sound of background conversation and noise ceding to the music in the first few seconds, but the “beginnings” sound tentative, like proposals or suggestions. The most explicit tune here is the slow, loping line passed back and forth between Parker and Johnson that initiates Side C, 2019 May-05-19, the earliest recording here. The music is a constant that doesn’t mind omitting its beginnings and ends, but it’s also, in the same way, an organism, a kind of music that many of us are always inside and that is always inside us. All kinds of music stimulate us in all kinds of ways, but for this listener, Jeff Parker’s ETA Quartet happily raises a fundamental question: what is comfort music, what are its components, and could there be a universal comfort music? Or is comfort music a universal element in what we may listen for in sound? Modality, rhythmic and melodic figures/motifs, drone, compound relationships and, too, a shifting mosaic that cannot be encapsulated? The thing is, any music we seek out is, in our seeking, a comfort, whether it’s a need for structures so complex that we might lose ourselves in mapping them, or music so random, we are freed of all specificity, but something that may have healing properties. This is not just bar music, but music for a bar named for art that further echoes in the band’s abbreviated name. Socialization is enshrined here. There’s another crucial fiction, too, maybe closer, The Scope, the bar in Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 with its “strictly electronic music policy”. Consider, too, the social roots reverberating in the distant musical ancestry, that Riley session with John Cale, Church of Anthrax, among many … or the healing music of the Gnawa … or the Master Musicians of Jajouka with Ornette Coleman on Dancing in Your Head. And that which is most “natural” to us in the early decades of the 21st century? … Jamming, looping, drones…So perhaps an ideal musical state might be a regular Monday night session with guitar, saxophone, loops, bass and drums…the guitarist and saxophonist using loops, expanding the palette and multiplying the reach of time, repeating oneself with the possibility of mutation or constancy. In some long ago, perfect insight into a burgeoning age of filming and recording, Jay Gatsby remarked, “Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course you can!” We might even repeat the present or the future. --Stuart Broomer,

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns. Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands. If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well —other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time. Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba. In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic. “Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism. George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, an awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? Stuart Broomer, April 2022  credits released April 14, 2023 Joshua Abrams: bass, guimbri Lisa Alvarado: harmonium Mikel Patrick Avery: drums Josh Berman: cornet Kara Bershad: harp Ari Brown: tenor saxophone Hamid Drake: conga, tabla, tar Ben Lamar Gay: cornet Nick Mazzarella: alto saxophone Jason Stein: bass clarinet Mai Sugimoto: alto saxophone, flute

At the beginning of the 1960s, at the Berklee College of Music, Byard Lancaster met some feisty friends: Sonny Sharrock, Dave Burrell and Ted Daniel. It is easy to see why he rapidly became involved in free jazz. Once he was settled in New York, he appeared on Sunny Murray Quintet, recorded under the leadership of the drum crazy colleague of Albert Ayler. In 1968, the saxophonist and flutist recorded his first album under his own name: It’s Not Up To Us. The following year he came to Paris in the wake of… Sunny Murray. He would come back to France in 1971 (again with Murray) and in 1973 (without Murray for a change). This is when he met Jef Gilson, the pianist and producer who encouraged him to record under his own name again. On Palm Records (Gilson’s label), he would release four albums: Us, Mother Africa, Exactement and Funny Funky Rib Crib. The recording of “Exactement” required two sessions in the studio: February 1st and May 18th 1974 – in between the two dates, Lancaster recorded, alongside Clint Jackson, the excellent “Mother Africa”. Two names appear on the cover of “Exactement”: Lancaster (Byard) and Speller (Keno). Byard Lancaster wanted to be precise, moving regularly from one instrument to another: first on piano, which was the first instrument he learned. On “Sweet Evil Miss Kisianga”, his inspiration is first and foremost Coltrane (even if leaning more towards Alice than John), this announces the storm to follow. It is Lancaster’s horn-playing which really stands out: on alto (the sound of which is transformed by an octavoice on one track, "Dr. Oliver W. Lancaster") or soprano saxophones, as well as on flute or bass clarinet, the musician walks a tightrope making the most of all the risks he takes. Using the full register of his instruments, he has fun with the possibilities. Then, Lancaster invokes or evokes Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy and even Prokofiev, before going into a danse alongside Keno Speller on percussion. Above all, he has a unique sound. Byard Lancaster, on whatever instrument he plays and by continually seeking, always ends up hitting the right note… ends up by playing exactement the note he had to play.

t the beginning of the 1960s, at the Berklee College of Music, Byard Lancaster met some feisty friends: Sonny Sharrock, Dave Burrell and Ted Daniel. It is easy to see why he rapidly became involved in free jazz. Once he was settled in New York, he appeared on Sunny Murray Quintet, recorded under the leadership of the drum crazy colleague of Albert Ayler. In 1968, the saxophonist and flutist recorded his first album under his own name: It’s Not Up To Us. The following year he came to Paris in the wake of… Sunny Murray. He would come back to France in 1971 (again with Murray) and in 1973 (without Murray for a change). This is when he met Jef Gilson, the pianist and producer who encouraged him to record under his own name again. On Palm Records (Gilson’s label), he would release four albums: Us, Mother Africa, Exactement and Funny Funky Rib Crib. A few months after recording “Us”, Lancaster recorded “Mother Africa” along with Clint Jackson III, a trumpeter, partner of Khan Jamal or Noah Howard on other recordings. On march 8th, 1974, Lancaster and Jackson headed up a group composed of Jean-François Catoire (electric and double bass), Keno Speller (percussion) and Jonathan Dickinson (drums). Together, they create an immediate impression. From the first seconds of “We The Blessed”, they develop a free jazz which rapidly abandons any virulence under the effect of blues and soul based interventions. When Gilson’s composition “Mother Africa” begins, listeners are transported into the studio, listening to the musicians setting up: chatting and joking… Then comes the melody: a dozen or so notes of a repeated theme which is accelerated and deformed according to their whims… The jazz played by the association Byard Lancaster / Clint Jackson III is rare: creative AND recreational. “We the blessed”, is apt listening to this again today! This CD edition contains a bonus track, the magnificent “Love Always” that was originally released on the fourth (and last) volume of the Jef Gilson Anthology series released in 1975. Recorded on 8th March 1974, it is a beautiful 15-minute-long modal jazz piece. Four notes from the bass (the relentless Jean-François Catoire, who makes up the rhythm section alongside drummer Jonathan Dickinson and percussionist Keno Speller), and the group is up and running! On piano, Gilson shows the subtle tact of a sideman, leaving the lions’ share of the place to the horns. This allows us to hear the trumpet of Clint Jackson III and the alto (which sometimes sounds almost flute-like) of Byard Lancaster each staking their claim in a long hallucinatory march which moves from moments of direct exaltation to profoundly sensitive collective playing.

At long last, Rafael Toral delivers 'Travelling Light', his stunning, wildly anticated follow-up to 2024's critally acclaimed ‘Spectral Evolution’, via Drag City. Sprawling across beautifullay produced double LP and CD editions — complete with liner notes by Oto’s own Bradford Bailey — encountering the Portuguese, experimental journeyman embarking into the some of the most ambitious territory of his career, 'Travelling Light' is one of those rare wonders that unfolds over time and has to be heard to believed.

Original version released by Ananana, Lisbon, in 1994. Tracks 1 — 5 are from the CD version (Moikai/ Drag City): mastered at Noise Precision in 1999. Tracks (3) and (5) were re-recorded. Tracks (4) and (5) are different from the original release. Tracks 6 — 8 are from the double LP reissue (Drag City, 2018). Tracks (6) and (8) previously released on "Early Works" (Tomlab, 2002) Track 7 is the first studio recording of AER 2, especially produced for the LP. This piece appears as a live recording on the original Ananana release, but this version has slight alterations. released July 21, 1994 All music by Rafael Toral. Performed on electric guitar except (2), guitar, bass and sampler. Recorded in various locations in Lisbon, 1990 - 1993. Track (7) recorded at Noise Precision Regada, 2017.

"Wave Field" ends a period in which i was interested in writing music with notes. It became evident that i wanted to work with sound, with modulations and fluctuations impossible to notate. This was a major shift to a different way of thinking, as i found notes to be conceptual abstractions, which are to be later served by sounds. Around that time (1993) i got to see Nirvana in Lisbon and the supporting band was the Buzzcocks. The venue's acoustics were so bad that all i could hear was an amorphous roar. While my attention drifted from this otherwise boring set, i began listening to that unarticulated stream of electric sound and found it extremely interesting and inspiring, a kind of liquid, abstract flux of rock sound. The room's resonance was literally liquefying this rock sound, in a way that plugged directly into my fascination for Alvin Lucier's piece I am Sitting in a Room, turning it into a kind of Rosetta stone, resonance being the common key. I wanted to consolidate these new ideas on distillation of rock and bring them down in a form of ambient music. Nirvana were great and actually sounded good, but when i got out, chatting with friends about the concert, i was already dreaming of Wave Field. 
While i was listening to the final mixes, i was amazed to discover Wave Field became a totally different thing if played at different levels. I was aware it could be ambient (played softly), but when i tried playing it really loud, i discovered a dense, powerfully charged stream of electricity. It's definitely not ambient, but something intensely hypnotizing. One can physically feel the wave. Recently i heard the Wave Field CD and realized it could actually sound deeper and more spacious. This version is the result of a thorough remastering work, and it now sounds quite closer to what i was hearing in my head back in 1993. Rafael Toral, Regada 2017

John Dikeman, Jon Rune Strøm and Tollef Østvang choose as the name of their trio the title of an Albert Ayler’s composition, “Universal Indians”, because of its double symbolism. The purpose was to inspire their playing in the free jazz patrimony of the likes of John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor and Ayler himself, and for all effects art and culture in our time are more and more global adoptions (“universal”) of singularities(“indians”). But in what refers to symbols they go even further – in “Skullduggery” they have the partnership of another one of the “new thing” mavericks, Joe McPhee. Now, you may ask: is this a nostalgic celebration of the past, with the same kind of revisionist perspectives we find in present recuperations of the bebop formats? No. That wouldn’t be possible with the involvement of someone like McPhee, even if the American relocated in Amsterdam and the two Norwegian improvisers wanted it, and they don’t. Their guest is widely known for his achievements in renewing the free subgenre, and in his path he made important contributions to other music practices, namely Pauline Olivero’s deep listening electro-acoustic concepts, Nihilist Spasm Band’s radical brand of noise and the jam rock of The Thing with Cato Salsa Experience. This CD reflects that openness and what you have here is the free jazz after free jazz. Intrigued enough?