Electronic / Experimental
4139 products

Many still see Louis Cole foremost as a drummer. nothing, Cole's fifth album and his third on Brainfeeder – released on 9th August 2024 – is bound to change that impression. Collaborating with the Metropole Orkest and Jules Buckley, he rejected the well-trodden path to orchestral renditions of his greatest hits and instead opted to compose a suite of brand new music for this project – bigger, bolder, and more expansive than ever. Yes, there are nods to his GRAMMY-nominated 2022 album Quality Over Opinion, but 15 of the 17 tracks included here are brand new. This is jazz. This is classical music. It's got that funk. You'll hear synths and loops. You'll hear a band and live drumming. There's a world class orchestra playing. Some pieces are ultra concise, whereas the sprawling ‘Doesn’t Matter’ surpasses the ten minute mark. To Cole, jazz has always been the one place where you can really let go of all expectations – on nothing, he is putting the music where his mouth is.
The Metropole Orkest proved to be the ideal partner for this endeavor. Over the course of its 80 year history, it has worked with legends like Ella Fitzgerald, Pat Metheny, and Herbie Hancock – exactly the kind of border-crossing mentality Cole was looking for. Add into the equation the conductor, arranger, curator and composer Jules Buckley and this really is a triple threat of epic proportions. Buckley is a unique and rare breed of artist – a GRAMMY winner who has redefined the rulebook of orchestral music and the role of a conductor.
Together, the ensemble embarked on a multi-date sold-out tour through Europe with the 50-piece orchestra, Cole's band, as well as guest stars like his long-time creative partner Genevieve Artadi. With the exception of a few vocal re-recordings and instrumental overdubs, everything you'll hear on nothing was culled from these ecstatic live dates.
This is remarkable because, almost until the very end, nothing was not actually an album. It was a collaboration, a series of concerts, a cross-over between two worlds. Cole had been eagerly waiting for an opportunity like this for years. His father had been a big classical music fan and as a kid, he'd absorbed a lot of that. Once he got the call to work on a project involving an orchestra, he instantly “went hard” with the writing. The finished recording encompasses 17 tracks and stretches across more than an hour of music – and still, a few more tracks had to be left on the cutting room floor.
Cole was looking for something very specific. The challenge was to create music that had a deep emotional impact, while also being really simple and straight-forward. Already at the earliest stages of his orchestral ambitions, he had tried and failed to achieve this ideal. It would remain an obsession for years. Even when nothing was still a live project, it didn't seem like he would be able to pull it off. And then, at the very last minute, Louis decided to give it one more go. One night, he sat down at the keyboard and instantly realised: “This is it!” He struck on the ideas and themes which would become the pivotal title track of the album.
Just as with many of the orchestral pieces, there was a clear vision of the feeling and the sound he was looking for. For “Ludovici Cole Est Frigus”, he based everything on a 30-40 chord progression at a pace of “one chord at a time”. Then, he went back in with the pencil tool and Logic, finding and weaving together little melodies. It was a slow, assiduous process. But working with an outside arranger was never an option: “It was the only way I was ever going to be happy with the results. This is my pure vision. It doesn't get blended in or mixed with anyone else's.”
Having already written and arranged the suite, Cole is also very proud of the mixing, an epic task in its own right. For a full nine months, he selected the best takes, tweaked the sonic balance and adjusted frequencies until the orchestral parts really shone. “I was sad when the mixing was over,” he laughs, “Sometimes, when I'm mixing my own solo stuff, I'll feel like a song needs a little magical dust. But mixing an entire orchestra and your own rhythm section, there's so much human energy! You don't have to add any magic. It was there the whole time.”

知られざる奇跡的邂逅が蘇る−−今から遡ること四半世紀前の1998年8月27日、ブライアン・イーノ、CANのホルガー・シューカイ、J・ペーター・シュヴァルムが繰り広げたインプロヴィゼーション・ライヴがこのたび、発掘音源『Sushi. Roti. Reibekuchen』としてリリースされる運びとなった。
1990年代といえばブライアン・イーノが「歓迎されないジャズ(Unwelcome Jazz)」と呼んだ「新種の音楽」としての独自のジャズにアプローチしていた時期でもある。その成果は名称を変えて1997年のアルバム『The Drop』にまとめられることになるのだが、翌1998年に彼はまさに自身がアプローチしていたジャズに近しい音楽と運命的な出会いを果たすことになる。それがJ・ペーター・シュヴァルムによるバンド・プロジェクト、スロップ・ショップのデビュー・アルバム『Makrodelia』(1998年)だった。意気投合した両者はコラボレーションを開始し、2000年に伶楽舎とディスクを分担した2枚組『music for 陰陽師』を、2001年にはCANのホルガー・シューカイを含む多数のミュージシャンを交えた『Drawn from Life』を完成させる−−のだが実はそこには前日譚があった。
イーノがシュヴァルムと知り合って間もない頃、3回目に会ったのがこのたびの発掘音源のリハーサルだそうである。そしてそこにはスロップ・ショップのベーシストであるラウル・ウォルトンおよびドラマーであるイェルン・アタイのほか、シュヴァルムが初めて対面する、カンの創設メンバーでありベーシストとしても知られるホルガー・シューカイがいた。イーノとシューカイはすでに『Cluster and Eno』(1977年)および『After The Heat』(1978年)で共同作業していたが、いずれもシューカイが参加したのは1曲のみ、かつベーシストとしての客演だった。しかし発掘音源に収められたイーノおよびシュヴァルムとのセッションでは、シューカイが「ラジオ・ペインティング」と呼ぶような、短波ラジオとテープを用いたサンプリング/コラージュを行っている。ともかく、三者が揃ってライヴを披露するのは初めてのことだった。しかもウォルトン、アタイを含む5人のメンバーが揃って演奏を行う機会はその後ついに訪れなかった。奇跡的な邂逅と言っていいだろう。
ブライアン・イーノが当時ライヴを行うこと自体も珍しかった。だがこの発掘音源の元となった「Sushi! Roti! Reibekuchen!」なるイベントはやや特殊なものだった。食べ物をタイトルに掲げているように、主役は料理人なのである。というのも、ドイツ・ボンの美術展示館で開催されたイーノによるインスタレーション展のオープニング・パーティーとして野外で行われたイベントだったのだが、字義通りパーティーであり、会場では大勢の来場者に料理人たちが食べ物を振る舞っていた。そうした中、用意されたステージでドローンが鳴り始め、そして5人のミュージシャンが即興で演奏を行った。イーノによればこのイベントにおけるパフォーマーは料理人たちであり、自分たちが作っているのはバックグラウンド・ミュージック。つまり音楽のパフォーマンスではなく、バックグラウンド・ミュージック付きの料理のパフォーマンスなのだという。イーノらしいコンセプトだと思うが、しかし、ステージで魅せる音楽は少なくない観衆の耳を釘付けにした。イーノとシュヴァルムが作り出すミニマルでアンビエント/ドローンなサウンドに、ホルガー・シューカイのサンプリング/コラージュが色を添え、そしてラウル・ウォルトンとイェルン・アタイは時に人力ドラムンベースのごとく怒涛のグルーヴを生み出していく。演奏は2セット、計3時間にもおよび、最後は警察に電源を切られて強制終了させられたという逸話さえ残っている。
発掘音源『Sushi. Roti. Reibekuchen』に収められているのは、そのような計3時間のライヴから抜粋された5つのトラックである。「料理のパフォーマンス」に付随するバックグラウンド・ミュージックとして構想されたライヴは、こうして音源化されることで新たに主役の座に躍り出る。そこから聴こえてくるサウンドは、ブライアン・イーノ、ホルガー・シューカイ、J・ペーター・シュヴァルムという三者の一期一会の本格的なインプロヴィゼーションであるとともに、ただ貴重な記録というだけに留まらず、アンビエント経由の「歓迎されないジャズ」に類する音楽が生演奏で収められた作品として、四半世紀経った2024年現在も実に興味深く思えるのである。
Text by 細田成嗣









I stayed at memu earth lab, based in Memu (mem, Taiki Town), located in the southern part of Tokachi, eastern Hokkaido, for a total of five weeks during the winter and spring of 2021 and 2022, and recorded the sounds I encountered at various locations around the area.
Loading the recording equipment into the car, I would drive on the vast land while thinking, “Where should I go today?”
There are forests and rivers all around, and lakes and marshes dotting the coast. Away from the town centre, one rarely sees passing cars or people. On the other hand, wild foxes, red-crowned cranes, and squirrels can be seen from time to time, and the snow reveals a smattering of animal tracks.
I’d park the car at a suitable spot, carry our bags of equipment, and keep walking until I found a point that looked interesting or contained the atmosphere of something I could record. The various sounds that I encountered in this way are recorded in this work. In addition, we talked to the people who live in the area because I was interested in how and what kind of sounds they heard in their daily lives.
When I stepped out of the bungalow where we were staying on a snowy morning,
I shivered with such silence that I thought my ears were clogged. Even in places where it seemed like one can only hear the sounds of “nature” with their own ears, the microphones captured a variety of sounds associated with human activity. For example, there are the sounds of large trucks driving on national highways, hunters shooting their prey in the mountains, airplanes passing overhead, the sound of the outdoor units of neighbouring residences, and of course, the sounds I myself make subconsciously. Still, a place where there is little background noise and small sounds can be heard clearly is worthwhile in itself. This is just such a place.
Considering both the ambient sounds I encountered in Memu, and the voices of people, without distinguishing them, I try to perceive the two things as the voice of this land. By attentively listening to the voice of the land, recording it, and listening deeply to the recorded sounds, what kind of world will emerge? The word ‘Memu’ (mem, in Ainu sound) apparently means ‘a place where springs wells up and fish gathers’ in the Ainu language. It is my hope that these sounds will intertwine with the memories and physical experiences of each listener and nurture their imagination towards the world like spring water.

