The thirteen-minute overture sits nicely alongside Bley's other work of the era in its dramatic, portentous sweep. Then a swirl of "phantom" voices, tape effects and organ introduce the first characters, with Warhol star Viva acting as narrator throughout. As an 'opera' (or rather, "chronotransduction"), Haines' text is so void of narrative logic it might as well be Einstein On The Beach - all that can be gleaned from the libretto is that it loosely concerns the inhabitants of a dilapidated hotel. These include a couple named Ginger and David, who are voiced at certain points by a pre-solo fame Linda Ronstadt, and the singer from Manfred Mann who I grew up knowing as Uncle Jack. Other voices include the musicians, such as Don Preston and Jack Bruce, as well as Bley/Mantler's daughter Karen Mantler making her debut on record, then about five years old.
The musical pieces then vary in length from under a minute to several, taking in more mind-blowing big band arrangements, small-group explosions with stinging lead guitar (check out John McLaughlin on Businessmen), gloomy piano with free-jazz skronk attacks, and more. Eventually, the music reaches its absolute summit in the stretch corresponding to the third LP in the original box set. A.I.R. (All India Radio) would soon be covered by Jan Garbarek among others; here it is in its original version. The epic Rawalpindi Blues takes in more McLaughlin brilliance amid a coming together of the "Traveling Band" and the "Hotel Band", and if that wasn't enough, it gets a just-as-good nine minute coda. One more short piece leads in to the stunning finale, which after eight and a half minutes (on record) ran into a lock-groove - on CD, this loop of humming drone plays out for nearly 19 minutes, then has a final snippet of calliope music as a 'hidden track'. In a way, this is the ideal ending to a truly unique musical experience.
Disc 1 link
Disc 2 link
pw: sgtg
Bley herself has a text on the internet somewhere about the recording process. Why it took three years to record was, Bley kept running out of money, had to gig or beg to get more, then recorded the next bit. One side effect of this was, while the intent was that each character would be a distinct voice throughout the whole, Ronstadt was a mainstream star by 1973 and Bley couldn't afford what she wanted to sing the last few Ginger parts.
ReplyDeleteI love this record to pieces! I still have "Holiday in Risk" running through my head at odd moments...
When people say this album is "self-indulgent" or a "failed experiment" I just want to punch them in the face! That's people with boring tastes talking. They don't deserve real music such as this.
ReplyDeleteNot to get too far off-topic here, but why is there so little love for Heiner Goebbels's "The Man in the Elevator," a sadly neglected ECM masterpiece? All the usual suspects appear--Fred Frith, Charles Hayward, et al--plus a lovely little piece from one Mr. Don Cherry.
ReplyDeleteSorry, the title here just reminded me of that one--but it's also not all _that_ far removed musically, no? Plus, you know, Don Cherry.
Wow, Frith, Arto Lindsay and some top-deck free jazzers? That looks like one to add to the to-do list for sure. Thanks for the tip.
DeleteWhoops, forgot to mention Lindsay--and he is freakin' awesome on this one! I could listen to that guy read the phone book, but here he's working with some serious texts making it that much better.
DeleteIf you can't track it down, let me know. I'll have to do a rip from vinyl so there might be a lag, but it's worth it.
From here - https://ecmreviews.com/2012/01/16/der-mann-im-fahrstuhl/
Delete"Lindsay’s omnipleasant diction luxuriates in every rounded r..."
"Omnipleasant," ha! That says it all.