Some music I've listened to recently that has something to do with Seattle, including two by the Seattle Symphony and one Christmas album. I posted these reviews (recommendations) on the local public library website.
Steve Barsotti: Say Tin-tah-pee-mick
Seattle has a thriving experimental music scene. Case in point: this mysterious, noisy, subtle, lo-fi album. Inhabiting a strange world a little closer to Richard Lerman than Harry Partch, made-up electroacoustic contraptions rattle and hum and buzz and intone against a background of silence or white noise. There is one track that is barely there ("on the threshhold of hearing") and the very next one that should be played as loud as possible ("on the threshhold of pain"). Love it or hate it (I'm in the first group), there is no music quite like this.
Steve Peters: Occasional Music
Not an “album” as such, this is a collection of shorter pieces by one of Seattle’s masters of experimental music and sound installations. There’s a delicate piano piece in the manner of Arvo Pärt; an ambient drone piece in which the binaural beats are actually played (on accordions); and a gamelan piece that, if one listens closely, reveals itself to be an extended riff on a blues progression. The middle four pieces were all composed for choreographed dances; these blend ambient trumpet, improvisations reminiscent of Miles Davis, electronic sounds (sometimes startling), and “folk music” (played on hand percussion and various flutes) from an imaginary culture. The overall effect is “mellow” but somehow vaguely disquieting at the same time. The CD ends with two “ambient” pieces, of which “Circular Lullaby” is particularly fascinating: beautiful, modal melodies can emerge from simply playing several tones, each repeating at a different time interval than the others. I’d recommend this CD heartily for anyone interested in music that’s even slightly off the beaten track, and/or as a good introduction for someone not familiar with Mr. Peters’ music.
Seattle Phonographers Union
Spontaneous musique-concrète made with field recordings unaltered in any way – only the stop and start points and the relative volume are decided by the performers. The result is a fascinating soundscape, at times relaxing, at times vaguely ominous, and at times humorous (there is a bit near the end that’s probably hilarious regardless of one’s musical taste).
Sunn O))): Monoliths and Dimensions
One reviewed described this as “drone metal” and my brain went “TILT!” trying to imagine a fusion of Phill Niblock and Metallica. That would be like abstract realism or the southern north pole. Then I listened to it, and, yup – they really have mixed musical opposites. Like drone music, it’s (sometimes seemingly infinitely) slow, where every new note is a major event. Like metal, it’s made with fuzz guitars and distorted vocals, and sounds best at punishing volume levels. There’s also a ghoulish chorus of Tibetan trumpets and a melodic trombone improvisation, both apparently played by Seattle new-music luminary Stuart Dempster. I should also mention the (unusual for metal) use of (or lack of) percussion: there are no drums, though twice in the second song, all motion ceases to the peal of a single bell. Fun (if perhaps overly dramatic and doom-laden) stuff, both for the uninitiated and the experimental-music nerd.
Heart: Lovemongers Christmas
A very original Christmas album, with several new songs and new takes on old favorites. Heart (known here as "The Lovemongers") sounds the way they played and sang on their early albums ("Dreamboat Annie", "Little Queen", "Dog and Butterfly"), with a lot of acoustic work, subtle vocal pyrotechnics, and some surprising chords and rhythms. Don't play this as background music for a Christmas party; it demands too much close listening for that.
Berio: Sinphonia / Boulez: Notations / Ravel: La Valse
Excerpts from three concerts by the Seattle Symphony are on this CD -- I was at all three of them! Berio's "Sinfonia" begins with startling dissonances and the weird stream-of-consciousness amplified pseudo-pop vocals (here provided by Roomful of Teeth) -- this was "new" enough to cause one couple who were sitting in front of me to leave the concert after only ten minutes in (and someone else behind me to comment "I have very little tolerance for this kind of thing" -- to which I snapped, "I have very little tolerance for those think that this IS a kind of thing" -- meaning that this is an utterly unique piece.) The centerpiece is the psychedelic "remix" of the Mahler Second (in turn a reworking of an earlier Mahler piece) overlaid with Samuel Beckett words -- reaching a tragic climax with "all of this can't stop the wars, can't make the old young again or lower the price of bread -- Say it again, louder!" and Mahler's fortissimo "resurrection chord" (resurrection is not possible in Beckett's nihilist universe). The CD then retraces avant-garde French music back, though Boulez' bombastic "Notations" (for the largest orchestra I've ever seen -- when I saw them play it, it was kind of comical to see them scale down for a Mahler symphony) and Ravel's spicy "La Valse", which is of course no longer "avant-garde" and quite a popular piece. The Ravel was as startling when first played as the Berio still seems to be to some, and it ends with a crashing conclusion that brings this CD to a fiery close. The whole CD is a masterpiece, but be forewarned: this is not symphonic music as usual.
Messiaen: Poems Pour Mi / Trois petites liturgies de la présence divine
The Seattle Symphony, conducted by Ludovic Morlot, continues its award-winning series of CDs of modern French composers, here supplemented by soprano Jane Archibald, the Northwest Boychoir, and two instrumental soloists. This is sensuous music, full of rich chords (often with unexpected dissonances that paradoxically add beauty, “like a bee in a flower” in Messiaen’s own words), meandering melodies, and in the second piece, literal birdsongs played on the piano (the instrument that probably sounds least like a bird!). The modernist Stravinskyan edge has been subsumed into a post-Debussy lusciousness. There is at the same time a religious holiness to the sound. The first piece is a collection of religious/love songs; the second more obviously “sacred” but still couched in the terms of sensuality (Messiaen has gotten the point of the Song of Solomon.) The listener may at first be confused by this duality (and by the “spooky” sounds of the Ondes Martenot, an early electronic instrument that sounds close to a Theramin), yet further listens reveal the “big picture” of it all. In this context, that “Theremin” sound is merely part of the delicious texture. All in all, I recommend this highly.
