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ITALIA SYNTHETICA 2025 features a FRED VENTURA curated selection of unreleased tracks from a collective of Italian artists and producers who have long been influential in the electronic underground scene. These musicians continue to push boundaries and explore new frontiers within electro, synth-pop, and new wave.
Originally released in Brazil in 1963 this is Nara Leao's debut album. A marvelous first statement from an artist usually recognized as the Muse of Bossa Nova. A great piece of Brazilian art featuring warm attangements of solid compositional material signed by the likes of Edu Lobo, Vinicius DeMoraes and Baden Powell... and of course Nara Leao's beautiful, soft and super-sensitive vocals.
Money Maker is a rare 1978 release by the great Jamaican organ wizard Jackie Mittoo. A must have instrumental reggae classic which blends a series of killer-riddims originally laid down at Studio One and Mittoo's highly infectious gritty funk organ work.
"Every Nigger is a Star" the legendary soundtrack to the cult 1973 Jamaican film! Composed and arranged by popular Jamaican singer and bassist Boris Gardiner, this music still sounds as the perfect blend between reggae and Blaxploitation oriented Soul-Funk groove. Needless to remember that in 2015 the title track was sampled for the opening track of Kendrik Lamar's iconic album "To pimp for a Butterfly" in other words an essential release for all the ghetto-sounds freaks out there!
Recorded in 1988, as her self-titled debut was becoming a global phenomenon and establishing her as a new icon of socially conscious folk, this FM broadcast captures Tracy Chapman’s live performance at the Montreux Jazz Festival during the height of her initial breakthrough. Now available on vinyl, this release offers a raw and intimate look at an artist at the peak of her early powers.
Released in 1973 on Motown’s label, Share My Love is a richly layered and deeply expressive record that captures Gloria Jones at a creative crossroads. After years working behind the scenes as a songwriter and session vocalist, penning material for The Tams, The Marvellettes, and others, Jones finally takes center stage with a collection that radiates confidence, vulnerability, and undeniable soul. Known to many for her original 1964 version of “Tainted Love,” later immortalized by Soft Cell, Jones brought to Share My Love a seasoned understanding of both the heartbreak and hope that lie at the core of great soul music. More than just a product of its time, Share My Love feels like a declaration, a turning point where one of soul’s great, often-overlooked voices stepped into her own light. It remains a moving document of artistic self-assurance and one of the most heartfelt releases to emerge from Motown’s early ’70s era.
First released in 1971, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki is a delirious cult album that sounds as mischievous and unclassifiable now as it did then. Conceived not as a band but as a studio-born fantasy, YAMASUKI created a pan-cultural pop opera that gleefully ignored genre boundaries and common sense. Produced by Jean Kluger and written with Daniel Vangarde, the album sits at a surreal crossroads of psychedelic pop, funk, samba and bubblegum melodies. Phonetic pseudo-Japanese chants, performed by a children’s choir, collide with ritualistic cries from a Japanese judo grandmaster, turning each track into a playful piece of sonic theatre. What began as a single quickly expanded into a fully realised concept, one whose influence has travelled far beyond novelty. Elements of Yamasuki have resurfaced through reinterpretations, samples and pop mutations across decades, from underground soul and hip hop to mainstream chart pop and television soundtracks. Revisited today, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki remains a reminder that pop can be strange, joyful and inventive without explanation. It is music that laughs at rules, dances around definitions and proves that imagination never dates.
Label co-founder Conrad Pack returns to SELN with what is in essence a Dub EP, but so much more. The failsafe formula of stepping percussion and “ital” bass lean on a familiar soundsystem nature with engulfing pads finishing the job to evoke a true BIG SMOKE FEELING. Although the melody itself wouldn’t sound out of place in a UK Drill number the song overall still touches on DIY ++ sonics (yes it’s as good as it sounds if not better). Recorded during the height of the Scram era, masterminded by Leeway (Guy Gormley), and hosted by the late soundsystem luminary Julian Fairshare at Ormside Projects, the influences are crystal clear; Steppers-esq, leaning heavily on London’s musical legacy past and present, whilst still pushing for SOMETHING NEW. Praise EP will be available as a limited edition Vinyl (edition of 200) and digital download. You can catch Pack performing a special live set at our forthcoming 'late night event’ at Ormside Projects on 4th October alongside Kerrie, Jah Vibemaster & Sam Clarke.
Grand Theft were a short-lived Seattle trio who detonated onto the scene in 1972 with a single, savage LP. Conceived as a tongue-in-cheek swipe at arena-rock excess, the project quickly shed its irony and became something far more visceral. Driven by Dave Baron’s barbed-wire guitar, Kevin Marin’s booming bass and Phil Kittgaard’s full-throttle howl, the band tore through their material in one chaotic studio session. The result is a raw, unpolished document of heavy rock at its most direct. Cuts like ‘Scream (It’s Eating Me Alive)’ and ‘Closer to Herfy’s’ channel late-night mania, inside humour and a growing appetite for abrasion. With DJ and manager Burl Barer fanning the flames, the record stirred regional buzz, a tongue-in-cheek “dream date” promotion and praise from Lester Bangs. Live appearances were scarce but explosive, adding to the mystique after the band dissolved. What started as a throwaway gag hardened into a cult proto-metal artefact — a reminder of how quickly a spark can turn into wildfire.
On his sixth LP In Another, Toronto-based, Japanese-born, musician and composer Masahiro Takahashi (髙橋 政宏) continues the collaborative expansion of his sonic universe that listeners witness on his 2023 release, Humid Sun. Here he enlists a rotating ensemble of ten guest artists from Toronto’s vibrant music community, including his labelmate Joseph Shabason, who also serves as the album’s co-producer and engineer. Spurred by his longtime admiration for chamber pop spanning the High Llamas and Free Design to the Beach Boys, Takahashi deviates from the underlying processes of his past two outings, trading Ableton sequences for lead sheets, focusing on creating robust melodic and harmonic foundations first. This difference is audible straight away; the album opens with a dialog between upright piano and plucked double bass that’s so gentle and transparent you can hear the breath of the players. Yet the record is not all as sparse as this intimate opening. The ensuing collection of 10 tracks—variously inspired by the vignette structure of Akira Kurosawa’s 1990 film Dreams and the parables of Chinese philosopher Zhuangzi—unfurls Takahashi’s most colourful, poignant and sophisticated set to date. With instrumental contributions from the likes of Thom Gill (collaborator to everyone from Chaka Khan to Sam Wilkes), Bram Gielen (Jeremy Dutcher, Owen Pallett), Philippe Melanson (Sam Gendel, Eric Chenaux),Orange Milk Records alum Nick Storring, Takahashi and company embrace everything from viscous jazz-funk to wistful ambience, languid balladry to groove-laden tropical repose. Then there’s the vocals, which play a key role in connecting this body of work to its pop inspirations. Fellow Telephone Explosion artist Dorothea Paas sings on nine cuts, while Chris A. Cummings (Marker Starling, Cici Arthur) crafted elegant vocal arrangements featuring both of them for six tracks. And just like the intricate songcraft that Takahashi so admires, In Another teems with personality and wit, offering surprise twists of colour tucked into its warm and evocative compositions.
Originally released in 1978, Music By William Eaton is a private-press album from the accomplished experimental stringed instrument builder. The atmospheric recording techniques, mixed with a hint of Fahey/Takoma-lineage make for a listening experience akin to the mountainscape drawing represented on the album cover. The experience may seem simple at first, but like any great trip in nature, new details consistently reveal themselves upon each listen.
“When I started building instruments, playing guitar took on a whole new dimension. From the conception to the birth of each instrument, new layers of meaning unfolded. Cycles, connections and interdependencies became apparent as I contemplated the growth of trees from seed to old age, and the transformation from raw wood to the building of a musical instrument. I sought out quiet natural environments to play and listen to the “voice” of my 6 string, 12 string, 26 string (Elesion Harmonium) and double neck quadraphonic electric guitar. Deep canyons contained a beautiful resonant quality and echo. A starlit night with a full moon provided all the reflection and endless space by which to project music into the cosmos. The sound of a bubbling stream and singing birds added a natural symphonic tapestry to a melody or chord pattern. As I perceived it, everything was participating in a serendipitous dance. Everything was part of the music.
During this time, I decided to record an instrumental album of music. The idea was simple; it would be a series of tone poems with no titles or any information attached, only the words ‘Music by William Eaton.’ While some of the songs evolved out of composed chord progressions, most of the songs were played spontaneously, only on the occasion of the recording. These improvised songs haven’t been played since.” -- William Eaton
First time reissue of JP / US free jazz rarity. Old-style Gatefold LP with rare photographs & liner notes by Ed Hazell. Edition of 1000 BUY HERE: www.aguirrerecords.com/products/marion-brown-awofofora-lp The 1970s were Marion Brown’s most searching decade, a period during which he sought to move beyond the free jazz of the previous era and find more personal approaches to structuring improvisation and composition. After leaving New York for Europe in 1967, Brown began reshaping his music into what he described as “a more deliberate kind of music that had more structure to it,” pacing it so that moods and modes could develop over time. Albums such as In Sommerhausen, Afternoon of a Georgia Faun, Geechee Recollections, and Sweet Earth Flying trace this evolution: rhythmic structures moved to the foreground, harmony receded, and composition became a matter of orchestrating interlocking rhythmic parts as one would polyphonic lines. Released in 1976, Awofofora is an overlooked but crucial entry in that sequence. At the time, its use of funk and reggae beats, electric guitars, and grooves drawn from contemporary Black popular music led some to misread it as a jazz-rock detour. In retrospect, it is entirely consistent with Brown’s methodology. As he admired in the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the stimulus comes from within the community. Here Brown filters Afro-Caribbean rhythms and funk through his own sensibility, abstracting their structural qualities rather than adopting surface style. “La Placita,” making its first recorded appearance, layers distinct rhythmic phrases in a manner reminiscent of African drum ensembles, over which Brown and trumpeter Ambrose Jackson spin extended improvisations. The standard “Flamingo” is reshaped through diasporic rhythm and lyrical soloing, while “Pepi’s Tempo” and “Mangoes” harness crisp funk and reggae grooves to generate what Brown called a “manifestation of community” through collective improvisation. Even the overdubbed solo feature “And Then They Danced” reflects his structural thinking, ingeniously re-voicing a duet composition for two alto saxophones performed by one player. This was the only recording by a short-lived band that briefly polarized audiences during festival appearances in 1976. Yet Brown consistently sought unity across change: different sounds, same principles — rhythm as structure, melody as architecture, collective improvisation, and above all, the primacy of tone. Awofofora stands not as a departure, but as a vivid synthesis of the elements he had been refining since the late 1960s, its grooves and golden alto lines conveying a sound drawn, in his words, “from life and from the world of experience.”
The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.” Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene. In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms. They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral. Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.
Brendan Eder follows up minimalist 70s-jazz concept with new ambient-neoclassical record, Therapy. On March 3, 2023 Eder released his third album, THERAPY; a collection of meditative compositions recorded mostly at a church in Southern California. The self-released album went on to chart at #6 in Billboard's Crossover Classical and was featured in The Guardian's "The Best Albums of 2023 So Far." Following 2021’s Cape Cod Cottage — Eder’s understated-jazz concept album under the guise of Edward Blankman, a retired dentist in the 1970s — for Therapy, Eder drops the alter ego and the drumset and explores more reverberant sounds with his ensemble of woodwinds. The result is a distinctive take on ambient music subtly interwoven with Eder’s affinity for 20th century classical and jazz.
Hidden away amidst the bustle of Rio de Janeiro’s Catete neighbourhood is a small alleyway behind a cast iron gate. At its end is Bairro Saavedra, the courtyard surrounded by Neo-colonial houses where Brazilian guitar virtuoso Fabiano do Nascimento spent much of his childhood. Built in 1928, this secluded neighbourhood with its wooden shutters, tiled floors and tranquil benches, provides the inspiration for the title of Do Nascimento’s new album Vila, a collaborative project with a sixteen piece orchestra led by trombonist and arranger Vittor Santos. Recorded between Rio de Janeiro and Los Angeles, Vila is grand, tender, warm, playful and nostalgic. On this stunningly ambitious work, the delicate compositions led by Nascimento's guitar, which sits central in the mix, are surrounded by Santos’ breathtaking orchestral arrangements which swirl in all directions: complimenting, questioning, responding; in constant conversation. Like the eclecticism of the architecture Do Nascimento grew up surrounded by, his music straddles many worlds at once. He is known as a Brazilian acoustic guitar master and as such has collaborated with Arthur Verocai, Airto Moreira and Itibere Zwarg. But equally at home in Los Angeles's jazz and experimental music scenes, Do Nascimento is also known for his work with artists like Sam Gendel and Carlos Nino. Vittor Santos is an arranger and Trombonist who has worked extensively with many of the greats of Brazilian music, including João Donato, Marcos Valle, Toninho Horta, and Elza Soares.
Diagonale des Yeux is a new band formed by EYE and panoptique (Parasite Jazz, Simple Music Experience...). Their homemade world drifts along the fringes of cabaret, strange 1980s French underground pop music to contemporary lo-fi scene — evoking the spirit of Nini Raviolette and The Residents — while delivering beautifully written songs that lodge themselves in your head almost immediately like a Cindy Lee ballad. The tracks on Madeleine squeak and creak, wobbling on fragile hinges before suddenly opening onto moments of pure beauty. Drums and guitars follow up synths and electronic percussions captured on tape; chance and dialogue shape meaning and intention through "exquisite corpse" lyrics in diverse languages, with a kink for choirs.
Having sold his instruments to fund a nomadic 1970s lifestyle, eccentric Irish experimentalist Michael O’Shea was forced to create his own handmade answer to the sitars and zelochords he’d become accustomed to playing on his travels around the globe.
Using an old door, 17 strings, chopsticks and combining them with phasers, echo units and amplification, the new device was to become his signature sound, mixing Irish folk influences with Asian and North African sounds in a mesmerising and soulful new way that brought him to the attention of the leading improvisers of his day - Alice Coltrane, Ravi Shankar, Don Cherry and more.
A logical follow up to AllChival’s recent reissue of Stano's debut LP, Michael O’Shea’s self titled LP was originally released on Wire's Dome Imprint in 1982.
The background to the album is as interesting and inspiring as the artist who created it - born in Northern Ireland but raised in the Republic, O’Shea was keen to travel and escape the troubles of his home.
Wandering throughout Europe and the Middle East, O’Shea found himself living and working as a relief aid in Bangladesh in the mid Seventies where he learned to play sitar while recovering from a bout of hepatitis. A later period spent busking in France accompanied on zelochord by Algerian musician Kris Hosylan Harp led to O’Shea’s idea of combining both instruments as a homebuilt instrument - Mo Chara [Irish for "My Friend"].
He later described the process on the back of the LP himself saying: "Having sold my sitar in Germany and being desperate for money to travel to Turkey, I conceived of the idea of combining both sitar and zelochord. The first Mo Cara was born, taken from the middle of a door, which was rescued from a skip in Munchen"
A combination of dulcimer, zelochord and sitar, O Shea would play it with a pair of chopsticks, striking the strings softly using Irish folk rhythms mixed with the rich, nostalgic sounds of of the many Asian artists he’d encountered on his travels.
It was a pan cultural sound standing at an unusual crossroads of folk, traditional, rock, progressive, jazz, electronic and post-punk worlds without hesitation.
Perfecting the instrument on the streets, there were further spells spent busking in the underground stations and cafes of London's West End and Covent Garden during the heady days of the 1970s when they were full of eccentric street entertainers, jazz improvisers and musical pioneers.
His work with Rick Wakeman never saw the light of day but O’Shea’s contact with the world of post-punk London ensured his name would live on.
Introduced to Wire's Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis via cartoonist Tom Johnston, O’Shea eventually acquiesced to an open invite to record at their studio. Turning up unannounced in the first half of 1981 the LP was recorded in a day in the legendary Blackwing Studios and released on Dome the year after.
The first side features the fifteen minute masterpiece "No Journeys End" with the B side featuring more input from Wire in processing the Mo Chara sound.
Lewis himself said years later of the forgotten masterpiece: “I always said it was the best job we ever did.”
After an aborted LP with The The's Matt Johnson the following year, O’Shea quietly disappeared from the formal recording world . His brief but unique contribution to the music world came to a sad end in 1991 when O’Shea was struck by a post van and died a few days later in hospital in London.
This repress on All City’s AllChival imprint has been remastered and reissued with the approval of both Dome and his surviving siblings.
-Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy-, x2 LPs of long-form, lyrical, groove-based free improv by acclaimed guitarist & composer Jeff Parker's ETA IVtet is at last here. Recorded live at ETA (referencing David Foster Wallace), a bar in LA’s Highland Park neighborhood with just enough space in the back for Parker, drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, & alto saxophonist Josh Johnson to convene in extraordinarily depthful & exploratory music making. Gleaned for the stoniest side-length cuts from 10+ hours of vivid two-track recordings made between 2019 & 2021 by Bryce Gonzales, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- is a darkly glowing séance of an album, brimming over with the hypnotic, the melodic, & patience & grace in its own beautiful strangeness. Room-tone, electric fields, environment, ceiling echo, live recording, Mondays, Los Angeles. Jeff Parker's first double album & first live album, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- belongs in the lineage of such canonical live double albums recorded on the West Coast as Lee Morgan’s -Live at the Lighthouse-, Miles Davis' -In Person Friday & Saturday Night at the Blackhawk, San Francisco- & -Black Beauty-, & John Coltrane's -Live in Seattle-.
While the IVtet sometimes plays standards &, including on this recording, original compositions, it is as previously stated largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term. The music is more free composition than free improvisation, more blending than discordant. It’s tensile, yet spacious & relaxed. Clearly all four musicians have spent significant time in the planetary system known as jazz, but relationships to other musics, across many scenes & eras —dub & Dilla, primary source psychedelia, ambient & drone— suffuse the proceedings. Listening to playbacks Parker remarked, humorously & not, “we sound like the Byrds” (to certain ears, the Clarence White-era Byrds, who really stretched it).
A fundamental of all great ensembles, whether basketball teams or bands, is the ability of each member to move fluidly & fluently in & out of lead & supportive roles. Building on the communicative pathways they’ve established in Parker’s -The New Breed- project, Parker & Johnson maintain a constant dialogue of lead & support. Their sampled & looped phrases move continuously thru the music, layered & alive, adding depth & texture & pattern, evoking birds in formation, sea creatures drifting below the photic zone. Or, the two musicians simulate those processes by entwining their terse, clear-lined playing in real-time. The stop/start flow of Bellerose, too, simulates the sampler, recalling drum parts in Parker’s beat-driven projects. Mostly Bellerose's animated phraseologies deliver the inimitable instantaneous feel of live creative drumming. The range of tonal colors he conjures from his extremely vintage battery of drums & shakers —as distinctive a sonic signature as we have in contemporary acoustic drumming— bring almost folkloric qualities to the aesthetic currency of the IVtet's language. A wonderful revelation in this band is the playing of Anna Butterss. The strength, judiciousness & humility with which she navigates the bass position both ground & lift upward the egalitarian group sound. As the IVtet's grooves flow & clip, loop & repeat, the ensemble elements reconfigure, a terrarium of musical cultivation growing under controlled variables, a tight experiment of harmony & intuition, deep focus & freedom.
For all its varied sonic personality, -Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy- scans immediately & unmistakably as music coming from Jeff Parker‘s unique sound world. Generous in spirit, trenchant & disciplined in execution, Parker’s music has an earned respect for itself & for its place in history that transmutes through the musical event into the listener. Many moods & shapes of heart & mind will find utility & hope in a music that combines the autonomy & the community we collectively long to see take hold in our world, in substance & in staying power.
On the personal tip, this was always my favorite gig to hit, a lifeline of the eremite records Santa Barbara years. Mondays southbound on the 101, driving away from tasks & screens & illness, an hour later ordering a double tequila neat at the bar with the band three feet away, knowing i was in good hands, knowing it would be back around on another Monday. To encounter life at scales beyond the human body is the collective dance of music & the beholding of its beauty, together. —Michael Ehlers & Zac Brenner
Pressed on premium audiophile-quality 120 gram vinyl at RTI from Kevin Gray / Cohearent Audio lacquers. Mastered by Joe Lizzi, Triple Point Records, Queens, NY. First eremite edition of 1799 copies. First 400 direct order LPs come with eremite’s signature retro-audiophile inner-sleeves, hand screen-printed by Alan Sherry, Siwa Studios, northern New Mexico. CD edition & EU x2LP edition available thru our EU partner, Aguirre records, Belgium.
Jeff Parker synthesizes jazz and hip-hop with an appealingly light touch. The longtime Tortoise guitarist has a silken, clean-cut tone, yet his production takes more cues from DJ Premier than it does from a classic mid-century jazz sound. In the early ’00s, when Madlib ushered a boom-bap sensibility into the hallowed halls of the jazz label Blue Note, Parker conducted his own experiments in genre-mashing in the Chicago group Isotope 217, dragging jaunty hip-hop rhythms into the far reaches of computerized abstraction. More recently, Parker enlivened quantized beats and chopped-up samples with live instrumentation, both as leader of the New Breed and sideman to Makaya McCraven. Inverting rap’s longtime reverence for jazz, Parker has gradually codified a new language for the so-called “American art form” with a vocabulary gleaned from the United States’ next great contribution to the musical universe.
Parker’s latest, the live double LP Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy, was largely recorded in 2019, while his star as a solo artist was steeply ascending. Capturing a few intimate evenings with drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and New Breed saxophonist Josh Johnson at ETA, a cozy Los Angeles cocktail bar, the record anticipates his 2020 opus with the New Breed, Suite for Max Brown. Yet Mondays amounts to something novel in 2022: It lays out long-form spiritual jazz, knotty melodies, and effortless solos over a slow-moving foundation as consistent as an 808. The results are as mesmerizing as a luxurious, beatific ambient record—yet at the same time, it’s clear that all of this is happening within the inherently messy confines of an improvisatory concert.
Across four side-long tracks, each spanning about 20 minutes, Parker and Johnson trade ostinatos, mesh together, split again into polyrhythmic call-and-response. Butterss commands the pocket with a photonegative of their lead lines, often freed from rhythmic responsibilities by the drums’ relentlessness. Bellerose exhibits a Neu!-like sense of consistency, just screwed down a whole bunch of BPMs. His kit sounds as dusty as an old sample, and his hypnotic rhythms evoke humanizers of the drum machine such as J Dilla or RZA. You could spend the album’s 84-minute runtime listening only to the beats; every shift in pattern queues a new movement in the compositions, beaming a timeframe from the bottom up. Bellerose’s sensitive, reactive playing, though, is unmistakably live. We can practically see the sweat beading on his arm when he holds steady on a ride cymbal for minutes on end, or plays a shaker for a whole LP side.
He begins the understated opener “2019-07-08 I” with feather-soft brush swirls, but on the second cut, he sets Mondays’ stride, as a simple bell pattern builds into a leisurely rhythmic stroll. Thirteen minutes in, the mood breaks. Bellerose hits some heavy quarter notes on his hi-hat; Butterss leans into a fat bassline; saxophone arpeggios, probably looped, float in front of us like smoke rings lingering in the air. It’s a glorious moment, punctuated by clinking glasses and a distant “whoo!” so perfectly placed we become aware of not only the setting, but also the supple knob-turns of engineer Bryce Gonzales in post-production. Anyone who’s heard great improvisation at a bar in the company of both jazzheads and puzzled onlookers knows this dynamic—for some, the music was incidental. Others experienced a revelation.
Lodged in this familiar situation is the question of what such “ambient jazz” means to accomplish—whether it wants to occupy the center of our consciousnesses, or resign itself to the background. The record’s perpetual soloing offers an answer. Never screechy, grating, or aggressive, each performance is nonetheless highly individual. Even when the quartet settles into an extended groove, a spotlight shines on Johnson, Butterss, and Parker in turn, steadily illuminating a perpetual sense of invention. Their interplay feels almost traditional, suggesting bandstand trade-offs of yore, yet the open-ended structure of their jams keeps it unconventional.
Mondays works in layers: Its metronomic rhythms pacify, but the performers and their idiosyncratic expressions offer ample material to those interested in hearing young luminaries and seasoned vets swap ideas within a group. In 2020, Johnson dropped his first record under his own name, the excellent, daringly melodic Freedom Exercise, while Butterss’ recent debut as bandleader, Activities, is one of the most exciting, undersung jazz releases of 2022. Akin to Parker’s early experiments with Tortoise and Chicago Underground, Johnson and Butterss’ recordings both revel in electronic textures, and each features the other as a collaborator. Mondays captures them as their mature playing styles gain sea legs atop the rudder of Parker’s guitar.
The only track recorded after the pandemic began, closer “2021-04-28” sculpts the record’s loping structure, giving retrospective shape to the preceding hour of ambience. In the middle of the song, Parker’s guitar slows to a yawn; the drums pipe down. After a couple minutes of drone, Bellerose slips back into the mix alongside a precisely phrased guitar line strummed on the upper frets, punctuated by saxophone accents that exclaim with the force of an eager hype man. Beginning with a murmur, the album ends with a bracing statement, a passage so articulated that it actually feels spoken.
Mondays drifts with unhurried purpose through genres and ideas, imprinted with the passage of time. The deliberate, thumping clock of its drumbeat keeps duration in mind, and, as with so many live albums, we’re reminded of how circumstances have changed since the sessions were recorded. Truly, life is different than it was in 2019—and not just in terms of world politics, climate change, the threat of disease, or the reality that making a living in music is harder than ever. Seemingly catalyzed by COVID-19’s deadly, isolating scourge, jazz has transformed, hybridized, and weakened tired arguments for musical stratification and fundamentalism. Even calling Mondays a “live” album is a simplification, considering how Parker and other top jazz brains have increasingly availed themselves of the studio—including, in a sparing yet dramatic way, on Mondays.
Near the end of the first track, the tape slows abruptly. The plane of the song opens to another dimension: This set, Parker seems to be saying, can be manipulated with the ease of a vinyl platter beneath a DJ’s fingers. Parker’s latest may be his first live album, but it’s also the product of a mad scientist, cackling over a mixing board. Time is dilated, curated, edited, and intercut, and the very live-ness of a concert recording turns fascinatingly, fruitfully convoluted—even when the artists responsible are four players participating in the age-old custom of jamming together in a room. --Daneil Felsenthal, Pitchfork, 8.4 Best New Music
Turn to Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy and you’re in another world. Recorded live (it’s apparently Parker’s first live record) between 2019 and 2021 at a bar in Los Angeles’ Highland Park neighborhood that’s named for the principal setting of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest(and Parker’s ETA 4tet named, in turn, for the room). As producer Michael Ehlers points out in a press sheet, It is “largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term.” Mondays… will include all the things that free improvisation leaves out, modes, melodies, key centres and regular (though often multiple) rhythms; in effect, the musicians are free to include the conventionally excluded.
It’s a kind of perfect opposite of Eastside Romp – clear tunes rarely define a piece, there’s no solo order, actually few solos, no formal beginnings or endings – instead substituting the extended jam for the tight knit composition. It’s a two-LP set, each side an excerpt from a long collective improvisation, a kind of electronic jazz version of hypnotic minimalism with Parker and saxophonist Josh Johnson both employing loops to build up interlocking rhythmic patterns and a kind of floating, layered timelessness, while bassist Anna Butterss and drummer/ percussionist Jay Bellerose lay down pliable fundamentals.
Often and delightfully, it answers this listener’s specific auditory needs, a bright shifting soundscape that can begin in mid-phrase and eventually fade away, not beginning, not ending, like Heaven’s Muzak or the abstract decorative art of the Alhambra. It can sound at times like, fifty years on, Grant Green has added his clear lines to the kind of work that over 50 years ago filtered from Terry Riley to musicians from jazz, rock and minimalism. Though the tunes are described as excerpts, we often have what seem to be beginnings, the faint sound of background conversation and noise ceding to the music in the first few seconds, but the “beginnings” sound tentative, like proposals or suggestions. The most explicit tune here is the slow, loping line passed back and forth between Parker and Johnson that initiates Side C, 2019 May-05-19, the earliest recording here.
The music is a constant that doesn’t mind omitting its beginnings and ends, but it’s also, in the same way, an organism, a kind of music that many of us are always inside and that is always inside us. All kinds of music stimulate us in all kinds of ways, but for this listener, Jeff Parker’s ETA Quartet happily raises a fundamental question: what is comfort music, what are its components, and could there be a universal comfort music? Or is comfort music a universal element in what we may listen for in sound? Modality, rhythmic and melodic figures/motifs, drone, compound relationships and, too, a shifting mosaic that cannot be encapsulated? The thing is, any music we seek out is, in our seeking, a comfort, whether it’s a need for structures so complex that we might lose ourselves in mapping them, or music so random, we are freed of all specificity, but something that may have healing properties.
This is not just bar music, but music for a bar named for art that further echoes in the band’s abbreviated name. Socialization is enshrined here. There’s another crucial fiction, too, maybe closer, The Scope, the bar in Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 with its “strictly electronic music policy”. Consider, too, the social roots reverberating in the distant musical ancestry, that Riley session with John Cale, Church of Anthrax, among many … or the healing music of the Gnawa … or the Master Musicians of Jajouka with Ornette Coleman on Dancing in Your Head. And that which is most “natural” to us in the early decades of the 21st century? … Jamming, looping, drones…So perhaps an ideal musical state might be a regular Monday night session with guitar, saxophone, loops, bass and drums…the guitarist and saxophonist using loops, expanding the palette and multiplying the reach of time, repeating oneself with the possibility of mutation or constancy. In some long ago, perfect insight into a burgeoning age of filming and recording, Jay Gatsby remarked, “Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course you can!”
We might even repeat the present or the future. --Stuart Broomer,
