Liquid Days
This is a collection of Anile's solo pieces, some composed for this work, some previously issued as part of other projects. After hearing the first minute, I reached for the headphones - this is a deep, layered, intimate album.
Interestingly, it begins with "Ultimo", which means "last" - interesting choice, and it wastes no time in introducing a multifaceted world, with nontonal environmental sounds creating counterpoint to a lovely, pensive piano melody. The next, "End Titles", is again an unusual choice of title early on in an album. It's a tremendously weighty piece, I'd imagine quite appropriate to the closure of a tragic film. (Indeed, it's part of the Chain Tape Collective's CT-Film compilation, albeit created for an imaginary movie). There's a rhythmic figure that enters halfway through that sounds like footsteps, or nails on a windowpane, or a cord being yanked out of its socket; it's not a jarring sound, but a haunting one. Underscoring much of it is an even more foreboding vocal sample, dark and almost moaning, like a cadre of monks held in a windowless cell, bent under fetters.
"Misterious Way" [sic] - which I already covered in my review of the CT Collective "Great Speeches" project (curated by Anile), begins in maybe the closest thing to Frippertronics here, which I don't mention to diminish it in any way; it's staggeringly beautiful.
"In a Pearly Way" opens quietly, and continues there, with hints of backwards lines poking through the cloaks of airy sound. One of those tunes you don't feel comfortable speaking overtop of. Shh..
"First Call From the Moon" shows pleasing wisps of polytonality that are never harsh, and seem almost to suggest leaving the atmosphere of a familiar planet and entering into unknown territory. This is built around Neil Armstrong's radio transmission from when he first set foot on the moon, and when he intones the famous words "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind", his voice seems to break. The music enhances what must have been a supremely moving moment for that individual, all alone on the dust of a new world. With the pulsing drums and touches of guitar riffing from Milco Montagna, this track is the one that comes the closest to rocking.
"In a Land of Stars" is carried by a rich, resonating drone, splashed with descending echoes like drips of sound on a canvas, very much suggesting the astral bodies of the title. Carefully chosen chords step in occasionally, lending their repeats to the dense emptiness. Anile really does an excellent job of suggesting the material of his titles with his sounds, without being gimmicky. "Landing on Water", a stately number based around an overtone-rich sort of organ, features sprays of white noise that readily evoke surf, a nice choice; I believe that actual wave samples would have been far too obvious. This kind of tasteful choice is the hallmark of this collection.
I already covered "Now is the Time" in this review, but just wanted to underscore the richness of the composition here and how it works with Martin Luther King Jr.'s text, sometimes pausing dramatically on a relative minor chord before resolving with the words to a powerful and ultimating uplifting conclusion.
"Liquid Day" is the only solo piano piece, and comes across as a tad muffled which may be my only minor quibble here. But I can't say that the diminished fidelity doesn't lend it a bit of a dreamlike feel. It's thoughtful, and gorgeous, fading out delicately, a real contrast to the final "Foglie Morte" which picks up on a muscular note, with an insistent repeated single-note ostinato. It's the one live track on the album, and sounds it, with a surging energy that clearly comes from live performance. Here it's especially clear how smoothly Anile incorporates looping (and sequences, perhaps) into solo playing, there are no "four pianos" tricks here, just a nicely thick blend of textures that would normally be the work of three or more individuals.
I really, really enjoyed this. Top marks.
Great Speeches
This is a concept album; a collection of different artists furnishing music to accompany famous orations. I liked it so much that it took me a long time to write a review, I've been listening to it all week.
Firstly, there's no question this is full of substance. Presidents, Prime Ministers, despots, visionaries, leaders of change and even cult figures all get their turn. The music varies from non-rhythmic soundscapes, to hip-hop, to pure sonic experimentation, definitely never overtaking the text but never sitting meekly in the background, either.
First is Nick Robinson, accompanying Winston Churchill. The repeating and the vocal treatments point out the musical value in speech, the rhythms and pitches suddenly making sense when presented in a context. Statements like "we shall go on to the end" take on an even more immense gravity when isolated and repeated. The discordant pitches that emerge towards the end belie the horror that awaited many of those who heard these words in their original time. A masterful start.
Next is Giuseppe Farinella, with Benito Mussolini (!). The cheers that follow the statements are pretty creepy, then nicely become part of the gentle tonal bed. When an overdriven, aching guitar solo emerges through the shouts, it sounds like a wordless voice of reason above the din. The baby cries at the end are an unexpected surprise and a great addition. It would be interesting to have heard even more of the rhythmic "Muss-o-lin-i" chants.
Then, a touch of humor from Michael Moore over a stark hip-hop background from Michael Frank, which fits perfectly with the melodramatic declarations. I love the guitar commenting in between his phrases, sometimes hinting at the dark reality behind the funny statements, sometimes chuckling along. (However, I'm pretty sure the powerful voice is Lewis Black reading Moore's text; if I'm correct, it should be noted as so).
Event organizer Fabio Anile is next, providing a beautiful background for Mahatma Gandhi. His accompaniment adds strength to Gandhi's voice which on its own is almost humorously thin, and sometimes a butt of jokes. The distant, minimal drums are wonderful. Really matches the title, "Mysterious Power".
Mike Fazio takes on the unenviable task of dueting with Reverend Jim Jones. The atmospheric, watery background is a great complement, and the well-timed chords, as well as the spacious use of the voice, are very effective. It's quietly terrifying, especially the cries. "If you'll be quiet..if you'll be quiet...". Whew. It's brave to tackle this one.
Back to another great figure, with JFK (and then NASA ground control and astronauts) backed up by Michael Peters. Some crazy vocal treatments here, probably the most unusual use of the voices as raw material. Hearing a spoken word seemingly turn into the sound of a liftoff is astonishing...! Having heard that, it may be that much of the music comes from the voice, I can't really say but it's a bold and otherworldly piece.
Milco Montagna provides a highly "composed" musical passage, with two accounts of the Challenger tragedy superimposed on each channel. Instead of necessarily supporting Reagan's attempt to inspire and encourage the nation with an uplifting soundtrack, the music itself mourns, gravitating more towards underscoring the dry radio commentary with a reading of the true drama. The radio voice covers the event from liftoff to explosion, beginning with the standard liftoff announcements. But then there's a musical pause and strange thump partway through, after which the voices begin to describe the problem - "Obviously a major malfunction. We have no downlink...", and finally, calmly, "The vehicle has exploded". Very moving.
Anders Östberg generates a screaming wash of what seems to be white noise, a real wake-up call, which soon reveals its tonal qualities before subsiding to allow Dr. Albert Hofmann to espouse. The music then returns, bookending the speech, its impossibly high, overtoned flood of sound like a chemical rushing through the cerebral cortex.
Norel Pref then gives us the only multi-voiced piece, a free-wheeling intermixing of presidential quotes, over a flowing, portentous rhythmic background with chordal stabs that sometimes seem to be triggered by the voices themselves, a great effect I'd have liked to hear even more of. It's a rich blend of hilarity and deep thoughts, rather broad in its focus but fascinating.
Anile then returns again, delicately ushering in possibly the most powerful text, taken from Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech (interestingly avoiding the most commonly-heard phrases). It's a great touch to have a long introduction to establish the music and to insert long spaces between statements. The balance of voice to music is excellent, the speech becomes part of the music, as opposed to a film documentary soundtrack that would place the music clearly in second place. A gorgeous piece that works wonderfully with the vocal.
The only suggestions I'd make for improving this concept in the future is that on some tracks, the noise between words, combined with quick cut-offs after a phrase, can be distracting when listening closely. If there is tape hiss from an old recording, it would probably help consistency to find a way to include and integrate it over the whole piece. Also, the inclusion of applause sometimes works, becoming part of the music, and other times seems like an intrusion.
But these are minor quibbles. This is a fully-realized, ingenious project. Kudos to all. Best of all, it may be downloaded free in its entirely.