Archive for September, 2011

September 30, 2011

Corrupted

Garten der Unbewusstheit (Nostalgia Blackrain)
by Phil Freeman

Corrupted are a fascinating, mysterious band. They never grant interviews or allow themselves to be photographed in an official “promo photo” capacity, though they perform live and photos and video of their shows can be found online. They’re Japanese, yet for the majority of their career, their album titles and lyrics were entirely in Spanish, with early EPs using images of graphic violence clipped from Mexican tabloids as cover art. Only in recent years have they begun to give songs titles in Japanese, and this, their latest CD and seemingly the beginning of a new phase for the group due to membership turnover, bears a German title which translates to “garden of unconsciousness.”

Corrupted’s style has evolved greatly over time. Their earliest releases were sludgy, primitively recorded doom metal; their debut release, the four-track Anciano EP from 1995, sounded very much in the spirit of Eyehategod and similar acts, churning out Black Sabbath-esque guitar riffs at half speed as the drummer and bandleader, Chew (formerly of Boredoms), crashed his cymbals relentlessly and occasionally set up a slow, thunderous beat. But even on the follow-up, El Dios Queja, recorded the same year, the band’s sound was already evolving. The EP’s third and final track, “Sisto,” was nearly 15 minutes long, prefiguring ever more epic works to come.

September 26, 2011

Interview: Marcus Strickland

by Phil Freeman

Marcus Strickland is a saxophonist whose seventh album, Triumph of the Heavy Vol. 1 & 2, comes out tomorrow. His first two albums, 2001′s At Last and 2002′s Brotherhood, were released on Fresh Sound; 2009′s Of Song, a collection of standards, was on Criss Cross. But the bulk of his discography—2006′s Twi-Life (a double-disc set documenting two very different bands), 2007′s Open Reel Deck, 2009′s Idiosyncrasies and now Triumph of the Heavy—has been on his own Strick Muzik label.

Strickland’s music is self-contained in another important way. He’s a twin, and his brother E.J. is his drummer—or, at any rate, the two men are musical partners. They work separately, of course; E.J. also drums for Ravi Coltrane, while Marcus was a member of Roy Haynes‘s band for five years and has also worked steadily with Jeff “Tain” Watts‘s group and Dave Douglas‘s Keystone.

Triumph of the Heavy is divided into a live disc and a studio disc. The studio recordings feature a quartet: Marcus on soprano, alto and tenor saxophones and clarinets, David Bryant on piano, Ben Williams on bass and E.J. Strickland on drums. The live disc, recorded in May 2010 at Firehouse 12, features everyone but Bryant, and Marcus limits himself to soprano and tenor saxophones.

The group’s music has a strong sense of swing, but a powerful, polyrhythmic groove emerges quite often, too. This is something Strickland has explored on earlier albums in more depth—the group heard on the second disc of Twi-Life featured guitarist Lage Lund and electric bassist Brad Jones alongside the brothers, while Open Reel Deck swapped those two out for Mike Moreno and Carlos Henderson, respectively, while adding trumpet from Keyon Harrold and spoken-word segments from a poet going simply by Malachi. Even in an all-acoustic format, though, the saxophonist and his brother bring the funk. Idiosyncrasies, while recorded with the Strickland-Strickland-Williams trio, included versions of songs by Björk, Andre 3000 and Stevie Wonder, and E.J. Strickland breaks the music on Triumph of the Heavy‘s “Mudbone” down to a taut, almost Meters-esque shuffle. This same discipline is heard in Marcus Strickland’s playing. Unlike many contemporary players, his lines never seem to wander. They have a starting point and a resolution, and a coherence in between that displays a stark unwillingness to waste his breath or the audience’s time. In this, and given his extremely humanistic, almost crying tone, especially on the soprano (an instrument I almost always loathe, but not in his hands) and the clarinet, he’s strongly, and pleasingly, reminiscent of Eric Dolphy.

September 23, 2011

Jeremy Pelt Quintet

Trumpeter Jeremy Pelt, whose work I’ve been enjoying a lot lately, will be interviewed on this site (and in the upcoming print edition of Burning Ambulance) very soon. In the meantime, here’s a clip of his current quintet, which includes current BA cover subject JD Allen on tenor sax, Xavier Davis on piano, Dwayne Burno on bass and Gerald Cleaver on drums. This group (with Danny Grissett on piano) has made three albums to date – November, Men of Honor and The Talented Mr. Pelt – all recommended.

The clip:

September 21, 2011

Drive

by Brandon Soderberg

Quiet, kind, possessing a propensity to kick your fucking head in if need be, and sporting a bad-ass satin jacket with a big scorpion on the back, Drive‘s nameless hero, played by Ryan Gosling, is an anomaly on the current action movie landscape. The thing is, though, he doesn’t quite work within the niche of smart-dumb action flicks of the past that Nicolas Winding Refn‘s film fastidiously mines either. See, Drive isn’t chillwave applied to action movies, it’s a clever, contemporary riff on existential tough guy cinema, referencing the right seventies and eighties cult classics, building up the syllabus of nihilistic action flicks only to later reject their deathwish narratives.

Gosling’s jacket gets muddy, greased-up, and bloody like Warren Oates‘ white suit in Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia, but the Driver isn’t some transgressive loser; the tension-filled driving scenes owe a whole lot to Walter Hill‘s The Driver and perhaps, the slept-on Sylvester Stallone vehicle Cobra, but they tug the emotional weight of a love story behind them so it’s so much more than cheap thrills; the melodramatic ending of Michael Mann‘s Heat is teased at one point but cleverly twisted; Thief is another obvious, looming precedent and even if it ends on a similar, bummer low note, there’s a tinge of humanity and hope left once Drive‘s credits roll.

So yeah, plenty of nods to American rogue male cinema, but Drive is ultimately an affecting love story between the Driver, a stuntman and high-end getaway driver, his neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan), her child Benicio, and in weird way, Irene’s just-outta-jail husband Standard (Oscar Isaac, in the movie’s secret best performance). This doomed relationship begins as a delicate, hand-holding flirtation, and shifts to a weirdly ambiguous act of love—or at least, the Driver’s distant, idealized understanding of love—once Standard gets out of jail and finds himself desperately in need of help.

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