Mika Vainio/Kevin Drumm/Axel Dörner/Lucio Capece

Venexia
PAN 28

Charles/Gross/Hautzinger/Marchetti

TSSTT!

Monotype Records Mono048

Assimilating the austere, atonal and blurred timbres of drone-oriented electronics with similar sombre interface produced acoustically, is one of the ongoing challenges of one branch of experimental music. Consider these intriguing, similarly constituted, sessions. Each explores the limits of electro-acoustic improvisations with adjacent textures imported from noise and/or industrial sounds. But each is also succinct and balanced enough so that this intricate interfacing doesn`t wear out its welcome with excess.

Recorded in Metz, France, TSSTT matches the textures emanating from the electric-acoustic devices of local Jean-Philippe Gross plus the tape recorder and short-wave sounds of musique concrète composer Lionel Marchetti with the acoustic contributions of French clarinetist Xavier Charles and Austrian quarter-tone trumpeter Franz Hautzinger. Featuring even more geographically diverse personnel, Venexia recorded the next year in Venice, couples the electronic, metal music-oriented drones of Chicago’s Kevin Drumm with similar bulky oscillations from Finland’s Mika Vainio. Spelling them acoustically are the soprano saxophone, bass clarinet and shruti box of Argentinean-in-Berlin Lucio Capece and the trumpet and computer of Berlin-based Axel Dörner.

Customary brass and reed sounds recede far into the background on Venexia, as Dörner, who is an old hand at creating non-brass sounds from a trumpet, and Capece, who has a history with the two electronic manipulators, concentrate on moving suspended air through their horns. Despite infrequent key pops, tough blats, grace notes or aviary twitters, the two finally evacuate the sound field in favor of Drumm and Vainio, leaving the key punchers and wire twisters to work out electronic texture and grain in sequences that are as opaque as they are dense and as staccato as they are quivering. Nonetheless some drones can probably be attributed to the trumpeter’s computer programming and vibrating pressure from the reedist’s shruti box.

Vainio, who is also a member of post-industrial band Pan Sonic, likely contributes the dense, stentorian feedback which at points threatens to become not only sonically impenetrable but almost literally concrete. With these machine-directed oscillations and granular synthesis growing louder and more repetitive at junctures during each of the session’s two tracks, it’s probably Drumm, who has worked in saxophonist Ken Vandermark’s ensembles, who pulls back at times with field-captured sequences which slightly modify the interface. Appropriate responses on one track seem to be pseudo-organ glissandi, while accordion-like pulsing serves a similar function on the other. Eventually processed vibrations mixed with thin reed whistles resolve the sound design on one track; the other resolutely replaces the shuddering and crackling machine-directed thumps with osculating reed patterns that gouge a flattened smear across the sound field.

Notwithstanding Marchetti’s status as a composer with the Groupe de Recherches Musicales and in other situations, his use of a 1960s tape recorder makes TSSTT’s four very short tracks – the entire disc whizzes by in fewer than 29 minutes –more descriptive of acoustic/electronic intersection. For instance while short-wave signals and computer-game-styled buzzing and explosions may reveal distinctive concussion-like impulses on the first track, also audible are bugle-like triplets from Hautzinger and pseudo dog yelps from Charles’ clarinet. Furthermore while blurry loops and an undertow of tape-machine buzzing predominates on other tracks – along with unexpected gun-shot like pops – so do aleatory and contrapuntal acoustic squeak and peeps.

Probably the most characteristic track on TSSTT is the third which contrasts air-filled vibrations that gradually turn to harsher, narrower sine waves with tandem instrumental extensions. Linearly the trumpeter’s bubbling grace notes and the clarinetist’s intense overblowing sound. By the finale, escalating and burbling timbres from Gross’s so-called devices and flanged abrasions from Marchetti’s motor-driven Revox join with the horns’ multiphonic hisses and whistles.

Two slabs of calculated electro-acoustic improvisation taken to their logical extreme(s), these CDs won’t satisfy everyone. But they’ll certainly be listened to with intensity by those tracking the evolution of new sounds.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: TSSTT: 1. 6'12" 2. 5'03" 3. 8'27" 4. 3'51" 5. 5'15"

Personnel: TSSTT: Franz Hautzinger (quarter tone trumpet); Xavier Charles (clarinet); Jean-Philippe Gross (electric-acoustic devices) and Lionel Marchetti (Revox B77 tape recorder, short waves)

Track Listing: Venexia: 1. I 2. II

Personnel: Venexia: Axel Dörner (trumpet and computer); Lucio Capece (soprano saxophone, bass clarinet and shruti box); Mika Vainio and Kevin Drumm (electronics)

August 27, 2012

WILLIAM HOOKER/ROGER MILLER/LEE RENALDO

Out Trios Volume One
Atavistic ALP146CD

JEFF PARKER/KEVIN DRUMM/MICHAEL ZERANG
Out Trios Volume Two
Atavistic ALP147CD

Like the dexterity needed for ventriloquism, improvising electro-acoustically often appears to be simpler than it actually is. If you know your instruments, and if you have the right electronic equipment, the reasoning goes, properly mixing and matching the two soundsources to a memorable conclusion shouldn’t be too difficult.

The key word here may be properly, as many less than stellar electro-acoustic CDs attest, and it may also be the reason why neither of these collaborations makes it into the top rank. Similarly, accumulated factors results in one session being notable, while the other, surprisingly, is almost instantly forgettable.

VOLUME TWO of the so-called out trios is the keeper here, while VOLUME ONE falls by the wayside, despite having similar instrumentation and being about the same length. The devil is likely in the differences as well as the details, since the CDs were recorded about one month apart.

Two-thirds of VOLUME ONE’s New York-based musicians have a post-rock background: guitarist Lee Ranaldo from Sonic Youth and bassist Roger Miller from Binary System. Only drummer William Hooker, a partner of veteran free players like violinist Billy Bang and saxophonist Glenn Spearman is a non-rocker. In contrast, VOLUME TWO’s guitarist Jeff Parker and percussionist Michael Zerang have played with just about every free player in Chicago from saxophonists Fred Anderson and Ken Vandermark to drummer Hamid Drake and cornetist Rob Mazurek. Only synthesizer man Kevin Drumm is outside the jazz/improv orbit, but he has still traded licks with Vandermark and others on the scene.

VOLUME TWO is divided into four long tracks providing the trio members with different sections within which they try out various approaches. VOLUME ONE is a single, shade-over-49-minutes track. It was also recorded live in a New York club, an atmosphere that frequently encourages grandstanding and self-indulgence. VOLUME TWO took place in a Chicago recording studio, with seemingly enough time left for reflection and self-examination among the musicians.

Nevertheless you shouldn’t assume that the Chicago trio members have created an electro-acoustic milestone. Only on the final track do they seem to produce something outstandingly musical. Here harmonic keyboard chording, wiggling marimba-like beats and slow-moving guitar fills mesh into a whole that references instrumental virtuosity as much as circuit wizardry.

However, too many of the tones on other tracks appear to be there precisely because they can be mechanically generated. The novelty of crackling static, bubbling squeaks and oscillating burps pales after a while. And although it’s fascinating to speculate, for instance whether it’s Zerang’s dumbek or some other percussion trickery that’s creating what sounds like a metal comb being dragged across a hard surface, or if it’s a whack on an aluminum pie plate, one could be a satisfied with customary percussive textures. Hammering away at his drum tops as if they were anvils, Zerang’s able to shape rumbles, rattles and bangs into identifiable percussion color that link to the others’ output.

These include Parker using his distortion pedal to reverberate Hendrixian guitar runs and surf band rumbles that finally reconfigure as descending flat-picking. Or when the guitar feedback finally defines itself as a product of flailing guitar tones, rather than the sort of oscillating squeaks and chirrups that could arrive with a video game.

Drumm’s contributions are presumably those futuristic industrial noises and heavily mechanized sine waves that add burbling whistles, beeps and static to the proceedings. Sometimes these dense drones catapult across the soundfield in such a way that they suggest a laptop booting up, an car motor turning over, or a jackhammer.

With their rock-associated instrumentals, Hooker, Miller and Renaldo, on the other hand, sometimes seem as if they’re recreating Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper’s 1968’s SUPER SESSION. The main difference appears when Miller feeds pre-recorded samples of a child crying and a woman complaining to a call-in host to the audio mix. But this respite seems to spur Hooker to intensify his already near-overpowering drumming and the other two to come up with distorted lead guitar feedback and a swaying electric bass line.

Before this, stuttering guitar chords, whistling amps and bass drum pummeled with enough strength to hammer railway ties, have been recurring leitmotifs. Rumbling bass lines, some tambourine color and a few vocal cries also are more upfront than any reflecting loops or irregular buzzes created by the electro-acoustic equipment.

Calmer, quieter tones predominate after the auditory samples as well as a few seconds of silence. But even then the heavy metal echoes don’t so much abate as become more diffuse and ghostly until the rumbles and shuffles fade away.

Describing either of these bands as out trios depends on your point of view. Whatever you call them, more electronic aptitude would appear to be necessary so that the members, not the machines are in full control.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: One: Monsoon

Personnel: One: Lee Ranaldo (guitar, effects and small devices); Roger Miller (bass with electronics and loops, guitar, samples through keyboard); William Hooker (drums)

Track Listing: Two: 1. 15:52 2. 6:45 3. 12:38 4. 10:17

Personnel: Two: Jeff Parker (guitar and analog synthesizer); Kevin Drumm (guitar, effects and synthesizer); Michael Zerang (drums, percussion and autoharp)

March 24, 2004

OREN AMBARCHI/JOHAN BERTHLING

My Days are Darker than your nights
Hapna H 10

DAFELDECKER/KURZMANN/DRUMM/ERIKM/DIEB13/NOETINGER
Dafeldecker/Kurzmann/Drumm/eRikm/Dieb13/Noetinger
Charhizma 020

Perhaps the key to really satisfying improvised electro-acoustic performances is related to the number of players present. At least the group grope that populates the final track on the Charhizma CD here provides more than enough tones and textures to differentiate -- and elevate -- it above the other selections.

Self-aggrandizement plays very little part of this music, which thrives on nicknames -- dieb13 and eRikm here -- and a conception of the program as undivided tonality. For instance the six tracks were recorded in Berlin, Granz, Austria and Vienna, but run together as if they were one performance.

Yet, with everyone on board -- Austrians Christof Kurzmann on clarinet and G3 and Werner Dafeldecker on bass and electronics plus American Kevin Drumm on guitar and synthesizer and Frenchman Jerome Noetinger on electroacoustic devices, not to mention eRikm on electronics and Dieb13 on turntables -- the soundfield suddenly becomes that much more expansive. Rather than the intermittent pulses and drones that characterize much of the disc, there are drum beat intimations, the sound of a jet taking off, the ricochet of a door stopper, something that could be triggered feedback, a fire drill siren, scraping noises, static rustle and an approximation of what seems to be a robot executing trampoline jumps.

Trying to ascribe individual sounds to individual instruments would be pointless. And it helps to note that the gang is made up of tricksters too. Although the final piece is timed at 5:10, after seven minutes of silence when it supposedly finishes, sounds suddenly radiate again for another four minutes or so, featuring bass chord echoes, pulsating sine waves, pedal coloration, whistles, horse whinnies and signals from outer space.

Also absorbing is the penultimate track, which features Noetinger’s only other appearance on the CD. An old hand in trio situations like this -- he also recorded an exceptional disc with pianist Sophie Agnel and Lionel Marchetti on tapes and electronics -- he, Kurzmann and Dafeldecker manage to create something that at times suggests that all the technology, keyboards and mechanics are underwater, as bubbling squeaks and whistles percolate to the surface. Other sonic adventures include intermittent squeals, what could be a real, live motor running and bird-like electronic chirps that resemble the sounds of a flock of wild fowl attacking the interface. Underneath all this is the minute aural suspicion that diminutive ants are somehow manipulating microscopic sidewalk drills.

Centrepiece of the disc, though less satisfying than some other pieces, is the abrasive “Berlin1” -- almost 21 minutes of an assembly line of scraping metal -- courtesy of the entire crew minus Noetinger. Although EuroImprov followers may be hard pressed to connect these sounds to Dafeldecker’s work with Polwechsel, which makes a virtue of near silence, he had a history of playing drone-based improv with others. Perhaps too it’s his bass -- or Drumm’s guitar -- which delineates the occasional chord heard. Among the wavering and repetitious drones and buzzes are pulses that, probably arising from the G3 or synthesizer could emanate from vibes, percussion, bells, maracas, or even a primate’s throat. Where the clarinet tones are supposed to appear is anyone’s guess, though.

Before the high-pitched track dissolves from a variegated, wavering drone that seem to take up all available audio space into static, another dynamic can be heard. It’s a recurrent chord pattern that, like a similar motif in the work of British experimental band AMM, creates a base on which other tones are displayed.

AMM seems to figure into the concept of the other CD, which features one slightly more than 30-minute improvisation by Australian guitarist Oren Ambarchi and Swede Johan Berthling playing harmonium. Ambarchi, who has interacted with AMM’s guitarist Keith Rowe, would seem to be perfectly at home in this setting. But the setting is a bit unusual for Berthling, an exceptional Swedish bassist, who usually works in jazz/improv with countrymen like pianist Sten Sandell and drummer Raymond Strid. In fact much of this CD can be tough sledding for many listeners. It’s definite that the piece would wear out its welcome if it went on any longer.

Most of the time it seems as if the two performers are extending variations on a single, dense, droning tone, which swells like a mammoth cathedral organ ejaculation. Pulsations billow up from elsewhere after a while, but the closest approximation to the sound would be bagpipe timbres. The idea -- as with some of AMM’s discs -- is to so overload the organ of Corti that you begin to hear variations within the viscous noise. Somehow, in fact, here a third timbre appears, though you can’t really be sure to which instrument it can be ascribed. Finally, in the last few minutes, the hint of guitar fuzztone surfaces and the solid aural mass seems to break up slightly, with the harmonium defining the bottom and static whirring on top. Just before the fade as well, the guitar line parses itself down to slightly resemble Pete Townshend’s intro to “Baba O’Riley”.

Improvisation always includes the danger of unevenness, and both these CDs exhibit that, as well as portions of great creativity. Those interested in change should probe these discs, but be prepared to take the less-than-stellar with the stimulating.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: DKDMDN: 1. Berlin* 1 2. Graz 2# 3. Wien# 1 4. Berlin 2+ 5. Berlin 3+#

Personnel: DKDMDN: Christof Kurzmann (clarinet and G3); Kevin Drumm (guitar and synthesizer [except track 4]); Werner Dafeldecker (bass and electronics); eRikm (electronics*); Dieb13 (turntables#); Jerome Noetinger (electroacoustic devices+)

Track listing: Days: 1. My days are darker than your nights

Personnel: Days: Oren Ambarchi (guitar); Johan Berthling (harmonium)

September 1, 2003

VANDERMARK/STRID/SANDELL/STACKENÄS/NORDESON

Two Days in December
Wobbly Rail 012

THE VANDERMARK 5 Free Jazz Classics Vols. 1 & 2
Atavistic ALP1372CD

TERRITORY BAND-2 Atlas
Okka Disk 12050

Ken Vandermark seems to put out more discs in a year than some earlier jazzmen did in a career. But if he keeps turning out fine sessions like this single CD (ATLAS) and two double CDs, then there's little reason to complain.

Like other improvising musicians before him, the multi-reedman realizes that the best way to keep things fresh is to consistently change playing situations. On these five discs the circumstances range from a series of duos with four different Swedish improvisers (TWO DAYS); 13 recreations of 1960s-1970s advanced jazz standards with his regular quintet (FREE JAZZ); and a speedy romp through four original compositions as part of a 12-piece mixed American/European band (ATLAS).

The most challenging music is also the newest, recorded in December 2001, when the reedman was in Stockholm for two days. Disc One pairs him with saxophonist Mats Gustaffson’s playing partners in the band Gush: pianist Sten Sandell and drummer Raymond Strid. Disc Two features Vandermark duetting with guitarist David Stackenäs, also part of cooperative Scandinavian band Tri-Dim with Norwegian reedman Håkon Kornstad and percussionist Ingar Zach; or with vibist/ percussionist Kjell Nordeson, a member of the AALY trio with Gustaffson and Vandermark.

Unfortunately Stackenäs, who has done excellent work in the past on his own and matching licks with folks like British bassist Barry Guy, doesn’t really seem to connect with Vandermark. Even though the Chicagoan showed up with both of his clarinets and both of his saxophones, the seven tunes often become a ritualistic display of extended techniques rather than a mind meeting. Should the reedman output tongue slaps, key pops and mouth percussion, then the guitarist turns from acoustic flat picking to behind-the-bridge scratching. If Vandermark wheezes on his bass clarinet, then Stackenäs produces constant cadenzas. Squalling baritone saxophone lines encourage speedy strumming, while mid-range clarinet musings presage folksy accompaniment.

By these standards, “Upptornande stackmoln” has to be judged a success. Finally the polyrhythms conjoin, as off-kilter tenor saxophone chirps and slurs blend with multi-rhythmic National steel guitar-type sounds. Somehow, Vandermark’s straining, droning lines build on Stackenäs’ hedgehog scratches.

It could be increased understanding, or that unlike young Stackenäs pianist Sandell is a veteran with many cooperative sessions under his fingers. But his eight duets with Vandermark proclaim that here are two musicians in step with one another. Throughout, the Swede quietly demonstrates his piano mastery, playing what could be honky-tonk rhythms one minute, then diving into the deepest Cagean dissonance the next.

Take “Reeds and hammers VIII”, for instance. Beginning with full fledged saxophone blats and rolling high frequency piano arpeggios that roam all over the keyboard, wiggling honking slurs soon appear from Vandermark’s horn as Sandell splays out what could almost be player piano chording. Plowing rolling octaves means that you can imagine the pianist’s fingers blurring on top of the keys as he moves outside, successfully countering Vandermark’s honks and forays into dog whistle territory.

Multi-directed Sandell is as likely to go pure New music and reach inside the frame, producing metallic plinks, as he is to sculpt single sharp notes with minimal vibration and almost no tremolo. He works his way down to the very bottom of the keyboard, sustaining the rumble with his pedals on “Reeds and hammers I”, forcing the reedman to go south as well, just after the piano man has spent the beginning of the piece proving he’s a two-handed stylist with a faint suggestion of “I Got Rhythm”.

Vandermark uses false fingering and produces elongated single tones elsewhere or constructs a solo from the hiss of air forced through the horn. Then on “Reeds and hammers IV”, he spawns double-tongued blasts, one andante, the other staccato as Sandell’s pitch turns celeste-like and speedy. It almost sounds as if a trio is in the studio rather than a duo.

The remaining duos fall somewhat between these two extremes. Strid, who is part of Guy’s New Orchestra, along with tubaist Per Åke Holmlander and drummer Paul Lyton, who also plays in Vandermark’s Territory band, is another veteran improviser. Unlike many reed-percussion duos that appear to be stuck in a Trane-Ali INTERSTELLAR SPACE screech mode, this one is different. Strid aids Vandermark in that style in places, but also uses his percussion collection, which seems to include a glockenspiel, cow bell, wind chimes and guiro to move most of the tracks closer to a more spacious EuroImprov sound. With the clarinet in chalumeau register as on “Knapp” for instance, when Strid does use his kit he manages to merely touch individual parts at one time. Other times he’ll move the saxman into a Dexter Gordon-style emulation from wiggling dissonant tones, as he comments with straight rolls and paradiddles that could be produced with palms rather than sticks.

Nordeson, who is in the American/Swedish School Days band with Vandermark and Chicago trombonist Jeb Bishop, also shows off his percussion skills on what sound like unselected cymbals, here as well. “Always” is the most pertinent showcase, where, when he turns away from his bass drum pedal and tiny cymbal peals, he come across as a Scandinavian Candido -- a Latin jazz percussion section all by himself -- while Vandermark reveals a quick darting tenor tone. Many of the other tracks, however, feature a mixture of clarinet and vibes that will never be mistaken for Benny Goodman and Lionel Hampton or even Buddy DeFranco and Terry Gibbs.

On the better tracks like “Where We Are” mallets seem to dance and glide over the metal bars, causing the clarinetist to abandon the comfortable chalumeau register for higher, more atonal pitches. Resonating metal swing is somehow replaced by harsh wooden-sounding awkwardness other places though. This makes Vandermark’s formerly euphonic clarinet or baritone improvisations appear excessively earthbound.

FREE JAZZ CLASSICS VOLS. 1 & 2 is another matter entirely. Initially each CD was designed as a limited edition bonus disk for two earlier Vandermark 5 CDs, but audience demand necessitated their standalone release. Although these live Chicago club sessions offer protracted sound pictures of the reedist’s working band of the time -- including saxist Dave Rempis, bassist Kent Kessler and drummer Tim Mulvenna, as well as Bishop and Vandermark -- the question remains of whether new versions of 1960s Free Jazz standards are really needed.

Well yes … and no. Vandermark et. al prove their mettle when they recast the tunes so that they reflect their input as well as that of the composers, who includes such heavy hitters as Sun Ra, Carla Bley and Julius Hemphill. The band wouldn’t want to be slavish re-creators of earlier sounds as happen on many of the albums by the so-called Young Lions.

Not everything works however. Too many of the numbers written by musicians as dissimilar as Ornette Coleman and Anthony Braxton, take on the same sort of freebop cast. Kessler’s rock-bottom bass sound and Mulvenna’s cymbal timing and snare shuffle are invaluable, anchoring the tunes to a solid swing beat. But often the rough edges and nonpareil melodies that defined the compositions vanish into the mainstream as well. It’s possible that Coleman never imagined that “Happy House” could be done with a Latinesque beat or that Cecil Taylor heard “Conquistador Part 2” with a bass part so unvarying that it could come from an electric instrument.

Furthermore, there also appears to be some role-playing going on. When it comes time to reconstitute something like Eric Dolphy’s “Gazzelloni”, Rempis’ alto saxophone solo appears to be a clone of those distinctive Dolphy runs. On Archie Shepp’s “Wherever Junebugs Go”, the tenor saxophonist -- most likely Vandermark -- mimics the older man’s abrasive, gritty tone to a T. Bishop fares much better. Since most of these compositions originally lacked a ‘bone part, he’s free to bring his particular vision to them. Thus Coleman’s line and Frank Wright’s “The Earth/Jerry” gain fat, wiggly plunger mute work, with allusions to Tricky Sam Nanton or Quentin “Butter” Jackson as much as 1960s -- and present day -- model Roswell Rudd.

Overall, lesser-known fare like the Wright piece and those by Jimmy Giuffre and Hemphill fare better than those by certified jazz icons. Bringing his reed arsenal upfront, Vandermark can pour out blusey clarinet arpeggios on one tune and pure bar-walking tenor saxophone squeals on others. He and Bishop often work in tandem, chewing up and regurgitating lines so that they assume a unique shape -- if that metaphor isn’t too stomach churning. Lester Bowie’s sombre “New York is Full of Lonely People” allows Kessler to unveil his own solid arco tone, making the theme his own.

Arrangements, which meld the three horns into a powerful little big band section, are an impressive Vandermark achievement as well. This skill is brought into even starker relief on ATLAS’ four numbers, which range from a little over 12 minutes to almost 18½ minutes. Here his arranger’s modeling clay includes parts for Fred Lonberg-Holm’s cello, Holmlander’s tuba and Kevin Drumm’s electronics as well as more standard jazz band, reeds, brass and rhythm.

Consider, for instance, “Neiger”, which begins and ends with the grating dentist drill-like buzzing of Drumm’s electronics. In between bursts of the writhing, harsh tones you hear burbling tuba asides, ascending trombone lines and standard jazz piano chords from Jim Baker, all of which are soon superseded by an extended Sun Ra-like unison space chord explosion from the squawking horns. Axel Dörner’s quicksilver, buoyant trumpet tones vie for aural space with Kessler’s arco slides, until rolling drum pardiddles from Mulvenna and British improv veteran Lytton introduce Drumm’s intermittent drone.

“Catalog” written as an unconventional concerto for Chicagoan Lonberg-Holm finds the main soloist sliding from EuroImprov rasps and grinds to expressive legato lines plus some effects pedal electronics that have more to do with Jimi Herndrix’s guitar than anyone’s cello playing. As he solos, electronics crackle, a clarinet reed whistles, the percussionists produce miniscule chain rustles and triangle pings and the piano’s consonant voicing and a gently swinging horn choir cushion the soloist. The piece ends in a crescendo of horns, piano and electronics in different tempi, plus a decisive shotgun blast drum beat.

Elsewhere the usually meta-experimental Dörner soars on his open horn like Maynard Ferguson, Bishop unveils some rapid bebop-style riffs that prove he’s more than a wah-wah specialist and someone -- Vandermark or Swedish saxophonist Fredrik Ljungkvist -- creates some bottom-of-the-rain-barrel baritone sounds. Finally “Now”, the longest track, mates nightclub jazz piano with someone -- Rempis, perhaps? -- stretching a creamy Benny Carter-style alto saxophone solo with a shaking vibrato into New Thing altissimo squeals. Further back in the ballroom, the horns gradually get louder as they come up with a swaying Andy Kirk’s-Clouds-Of-Joy-via-Sun-Ra’s-Arkestra undercurrent chording. When the orchestral passages turn tutti, choral sounds discharge in all directions, with squealing brass, honking saxes and the diabolic drum duo bringing forth the power of another 1960s representation, the Jazz Composers Orchestra.

Scorecard: ATLAS is the best overall session and should be sought out first. TWO DAYS has good and bad points, as does FREE JAZZ CLASSICS. While not as outstanding, both two-CDs set have much to recommend them, especially for Vandermark fanciers, Free Jazz fans or EuroImprov followers.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Days: Disc 1: 1. Tuting 2. Rackarbajsare 3. Knapp 4. Dragnagel 5. Hutt 6. Parla 7. Reeds and hammers I 2. Reeds and hammers II 3.Reeds and hammers III 4.Reeds and hammers IV 5. Reeds and hammers V 6.Reeds and hammers VI 7. Reeds and hammers VII 8.Reeds and hammers VIII 9. Reeds and hammers IX Disc 2: 1. Tofsformade boljemoln 2. Fjadermoln med krokar 3. Slojmoln med halo 4. Boljemoln 5. Bymoln 6. Skiktmoln 7. Upptornande stackmoln 8. Pathways 9.Where we are 10. Doorways 11. Morning of Stagnelius 12. Always 13. Common prints 14. Sideways 15. Evening in Ashland

Personnel: Days: Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet); Sten Sandell (piano [Disc 1, 7-15]); David Stackenäs (guitar [Disc 2, 1-7]); Kjell Nordeson (vibes, percussion [Disc 2, 8-15]); Raymond Strid (drums [Disc 1, 1-6])

Track Listing: Free: Disc 1: 1. Happy House 2. 69L 3. Conquistador Part 2 4. Goodbye Tom B. 5. Saturn 6. Gazzelloni 7. New York is Full of Lonely People Disc two: 1. Wherever Junebugs Go 2. King Korn 3. The Earth/Jerry 4. Scootin’ About 5. C.M.E./G Song 6. There Is The Bomb

Personnel: Free: Jeb Bishop (trombone); Dave Rempis (alto and tenor saxophones); Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet); Kent Kessler (bass); Tim Mulvenna (drums)

Track Listing: Atlas: 1. Add and Subtract 2. Neiger [for Michael Snow] 3. Catalog [for Fred Lonberg-Holm] 4. Now [for Samuel Beckett]

Personnel: Atlas: Axel Dörner (trumpet); Jeb Bishop (trombone); Per Åke Holmlander (tuba); Dave Rempis (alto and tenor saxophones); Ken Vandermark (tenor and baritone saxophones, clarinet and bass clarinet); Fredrik Ljungkvist (soprano, tenor and baritone saxophones, bass clarinet); Jim Baker (piano); Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello); Kent Kessler (bass); Paul Lytton (drums); Tim Mulvenna (percussion); Kevin Drumm (electronics)

March 17, 2003