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Her third Columbia, from 1970.
With Muscle Shoals crew on side one — Roger Hawkins, Eddie Hinton, Barry Beckett and co — and a lineup convening the Armenian oud-plyer Ashod Garabedian, Duane Allman and Alice Coltrane, on side two.
‘I love my country as it dies in war and pain before my eyes. I walk the streets where disrespect has been. The sins of politics, the politics of sin, the heartlessness that darkens my soul… on Christmas.’
Rie Nakajima and Keiko Yamamoto (co-founder of Cafe OTO in East London) are joined by violinist Billy Steiger and percussionist Marie Roux in a dozen deconstructions of Japanese folk music, for this pacy, intimately engaging debut album.
Rie’s baby orchestra of rice bowls, toys, clock workings, balloons and motors is by turns haunted, teased, adorned and laid waste by Keiko’s chanting, rumbling, whispering and stamping on the floor. The production by David ‘Flying Lizards’ Cunningham deepens and spooks the mix, which sparks with energy and wit, grace and mystery.
‘Boomerangs back into the slashing chords and frenzied double-picking of the Harry Pussy years, tossing the gentler melodic glow of the last few solo records into the dustbin. In other words, this may be Orcutt’s most overtly punk-rockist record since Gerty Loves Pussy, his first solo electric LP from a decade ago. It’s an affirmation that Orcutt is above all a lead player—angular runs scaling the heavens, ricocheting back to ground zero before climbing again. Orcutt builds tension with short phrases, repeated with slight variability until it seems like they’ll never stop, finally slamming into a fresh line like the dawning valley at the crest of the mountain pass. Another Perfect Day is, ultimately, something of a solo guitar Nouveau Roman, an exhilarating run through melodic reiteration, impossible crescendos (check out those ecstatic crowd hoots on For the Drainers) breaking into—a moment rarely found on an Orcutt record—soft, whisper-quiet tracer notes at the end of A Natural Death. Another Perfect Day returns Orcutt to the immediacy of his earliest records while maintaining the melodic complexity, phrasing, and flow of a player, who’s been going, what—four-plus decades now? And when he taps his roots, it’s a reminder of exactly what was so exciting about Orcutt’s playing in the first place.’
A harum-scarum bloodbath of sixties rock, seventies motorik-fusion, and eighties punk.
‘The landscape Orcutt Shelley Miller inhabits lies deep in the stoner American bedrock, fed by volcanic riffage and hypnotic phrasing with rhythmic nods to the SoCal ’60s and atonal slash piled on a mid ’80s SST punk-fusionoid substrate, ultimately blasting a ‘big rock statement’ that treads the line between good times and blown minds.’
‘A Squeeze-meets-XTC vibed track that will appeal to fans of the Rangers, as it sounds like a half-remembered lost classic from an ‘80s infomercial beamed onto a thrift-store VHS.’
‘Palestre is a study of higher-dimensional spaces and altered states of consciousness. It explores parallel dimensions and temporal anomalies from a perspective that blends mythology, modern physics, ADHD, transcendental music and club culture.
‘Sciogli Assurdi was recorded between art galleries, clubs, squats, and folkloric festivities in 2018.’
This is a great way into Partch, revisiting with gusto three well-known, relatively-compact works — a highly rhythmic dance piece, a cross-cutting film score, and Barstow, with HP intoning hitchhiker graffiti.