Jack Wright and Roughhousing You Haven't Heard This, Richard Pinhas Reverse
Jack Wright and Roughhhousing
You Haven’t Heard This
(Spring Garden Music)
Saxophonist Jack Wright is known as a fiercely original improviser and also one of the most deliberative voices on the topic of “free playing,” which he has been doing exclusively since 1979 and which he concisely describes as “the pursuit of pleasure through making sound that is as truly of one’s own making in that moment as possible.”
He recently released his insightful and unstuffily enjoyable book The Free Musics, which, if ordered from the artist, comes with the accompanying CD You Haven’t Heard This. Dense with ideas, but not impenetrable, the book offers numerous bold, thought-provoking statements in its discussion of free jazz, free improvisation (improv outside any genre) and “the present situation.”
Wright writes that free playing “is available for musicians who acknowledge the current dead-in-the-water state of improvised musics and wish to move out of it” and that it “exposes the gap separating human beings at play from musicians functioning as entertainers.”
Music can be a commodity. Music is a part of culture and can bring a sense of belonging and comfort. However, in Wright’s view, these concerns are beside the point, for those who want to “take playing to the highest level” and who can put aside their knowledge and reputations.
Entering the world of free playing is likened to a child introduced to the ocean, “excited by a vastness you can’t possibly know is dangerous.” “When excitement is deprived of some component of fear, ‘adventurous music’ is just advertising,” he writes.
If you say something audacious like this, then you better be able to deliver. Fortunately, You Haven’t Heard This is a potent example of Wright in action, both as a soloist and as a member of the trio Roughhousing with double bassist Evan Lipson and electric guitarist Zach Darrup.
The first track is Roughhousing’s 30-minute set from a 2016 show in Johnson City, Tenn. with a thousand bursts of staccato stabs, eerie wisps of aural spectres, moans, bleats, stifled skronks and much more; it alternates between being mind-arresting and contemplative, tirelessly chipping away and scattering its abnormally shaped fragments.
The remaining seven tracks are solo pieces from Wright on alto and soprano saxes, constantly offering piercing notes, odd timbres and strange, unpredictable moments of beauty, such as one passage where Wright’s sax sounds like a floating flute.
Wright compares solo free-playing to a “nothing to lose” situation where people have guns pointed at you. Both thorny and stunning, it’s music that comes from the odd combination of pleasure and self-induced fear.
Richard Pinhas
Reverse
(Bureau B)
1974 was a good year for the French musician Richard Pinhas. That year, he earned a PhD in Philosophy from the Sorbonne with a dissertation that dealt with science fiction, electronic music and time manipulation; that was also the year he founded the acclaimed electronic-rock band Heldon, and not long after, he also began making solo recordings, including an album heavily inspired by Frank Herbert’s Dune.
Despite being a total creative badass for decades, Pinhas is under-recognized on this side of the pond, but a large and fascinating catalog is waiting for those who are ready to explore.
His latest album Reverse has the ability to agitate despite largely being based on ambient drones, drawing from Pinhas’ long-standing inspiration from King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp for shaping electric guitar sounds with looping and delay effects. Pinhas is joined by a remarkable assembly of collaborators, including Masami Akita (best known for his harsh-noise work as Merzbow) on analog synths, drone guitarist Oren Ambarchi and percussionist William Winant, among others.
The opener “Dronz 1 – Ketter” uses propulsive drums that constantly evoke a feeling as if the piece is ramping up and about to end, contrasting with hovering drones; rather than being wearying, it gives the listener vigor. As the volume turns down toward the end as things burn out, details are revealed, such as sparkling electronics that suggest the sputtering sounds of faulty equipment and drumbeats with wild pitch glides.
“Dronz 2 – End” uses a constant rattling of cymbals and a funk-rock beat underneath diving guitar sounds that are slightly reminiscent of what My Bloody Valentine does. “Dronz 3 – Nefesh” is stingy with pitches—it seems to only use one long note on different instruments—but generous with varying timbres and envelope effects; its relentless attitude, particularly with the drums, may appeal to fans of Boredoms’ locomotive, electronic freak-out late-period work.
The final track, “Dronz 4 – V2,” is drum-free, concentrating on sustained tones that have a flowing quality but also a sharp, bristly quality—perhaps like a giant tidal wave of shrapnel to engulf the listener.