Friday

...great dollops o' squeakyness roll off th' platter with strenuous yet easy assurance, seemingly random sounds flutter with highly drilled precision, everything is in th' right place cos there is no wrong place when th' planets align for an AMM recordin' session...avant garde theorists gettin' busy in th' nascent london underground scene that was gettin' bigger by th' day, ever since th' poetry gig at th' albert hall in 65 bought all th' beatnix, cafe hooligans, students(left wing variety), layabout mods together to form th' sightly tribe known by th' media catchall as HIPPY...this art school enviroment was just th' place wobbly jazz cats like AMM needed to extemporise their groove, spread th' cut up sound poems to all who cared(not too many, but thats a given in th' avant world)'n maybe some who didn't know...hangin' with combos like soft machine/pink floyd/deviants AMM got to know a bit about th' rock'n roll psychedelia that was runnin' parallel in art schools/UFO club'n other distinctly obscure place o' high lurkin'...clang'n drone go th' sound,scrape'n hit bubble into th' ether, this is th' sound o' bein' born, bein' formed into somethin' whole, somethin' unique, tangible yet fleetin' moments glue to one another, there is no beginin', no end, just th'ongoin' 'n ever present NOW,inner imagination meetin' th' outside collective thought, individuals becomin' one entity, that entity made into individuals workin' for th' good o' th' whole...radios play th' outside world, becomin' part o' th'inside AMM world, bringin' th' chance syndrome into play,th' unmonitored bein' allowed free reign to mingle with th' clutter o' trumpets'n rattles...recorded over a couple o' weeks in june 66 this is way outside th' rockin'pop dalience o' th' times yet strangely as th' new century progresses it seems like it was th' centre o' all new things, such is th' all encompassin' vibe, suckin' th' list'ner into somethin' like a complete remold o' all that is known, a rejiggin' o' all available circuits...a clatterin' investigation o' th'inner psyche, a re-invention o' th'loomin' infernal machine as saviour, an escape through th' keyhole o' th'once unlockable door...basically whats on offer here is th' real deal when it comes to fusion anywhere near a jazz context, its free spirit jazzbo meets avant with a heavy dose o' sound poems givin' harmony to disharmony, a precursor to th' freaked out milieu that was to come in 68 when th' whole world turned upside down'n tumbled into th' computer chip state...AMM tell th' list'ner to be at one with machines but be dominant, theres no room for indulgence when th' downpressor state is ever vigilant,always loookin' for another firm grasp on th' will o' all righteous cats...

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home