Click here to [close]

Earscratcher: Elisabeth Harnik, Tim Daisy, Dave Rempis, Fred Lonberg-Holm (l-r)

Offene Ohren, Munich, MUG- Münchner Untergrund im Einstein Kultur. March 2026. Photo Klaus Kitzinger

JeJaWeDa Quartet: Weasel Walter (dr), Jeb Bishop (tb, elec.), Damon Smith (b), Jaap Blonk (v, elec.)

Washington, DC, Rhizome DC, February 2026

Dan Weiss Quartet: Patricia Brennan (v), Dan Weiss (d), Miles Okazaki (g), Peter Evans (t)

Zig Zag Club, Berlin, February 2026

Soundscapes 48: Harri Sjöström (s), Jan Roder (b), Joel Grip (b), Frank Gratkowski (f)

Wolf & Galentz, Berlin, January 2026

Gush: Mats Gustafsson (ts), Stan Sandell (p), Raymond Strid (dr)

Schorndorf, Manufaktur, Germany, November 2025

Tuesday, May 5, 2026

Rodrigo Amado This Is Our Language - Wailers (European Echoes Archive Series, 2026)


 

By Eyal Hareuveni

Wailers is the fourth album so far of Portuguese sax hero Rodrigo Amado and his American super-quartet, This Is Our Language - Amado on tenor sax (on the left channel), Joe McPhee on tenor sax (on the right channel), double bass player Kent Kessler, and drummer Chris Corsano. The album was recorded during the quartet’s European tour that introduced its second album, A History of Nothing (Trost, 2018), at the same studio where it recorded its first and second albums, Namouche Studios in Lisbon, in October 2019. The quartet’s third album, Let The Free Be Men (Trost, 2021), was recorded live at Jazzhose in Copenhagen in March 2017. Amado released this archival recording on his own label.

Amado frames the quartet’s free jazz ethos of resistance, truth, and transformation with a quote from American poet, writer, teacher, and political activist Amiri Baraka (aka LeRoi Jones), titled “Wailers”:

"Wailers are we

We are Wailers. Don't get scared. Nothing happening but out and way

out. Nothing happening but the positive. (Unless you the negative.)

Wailers. We Wailers. Yeh, Wailers. We wail, we wail.”

The music was credited to the quartet, except one piece, the heartfelt “Theory of Mind III”, dedicated by Amado (who plays here the alto sax and bird water whistle), Kessler, and Corsano to McPhee. This Is Our Language offers free jazz, entangled with free improvisation in its most intense, ecstatic, poetic, and spiritual form, totally possessed by the music of the moment and performing it as seriously as their lives, while also aware and respectful of the great legacy of free jazz. The quartet’s energy is instantly absorbed by the listener and has a powerful, motivating, and emotional impact, transforming John Lennon’s “Power to the People” and Patti Smith’s “People Have the Power” into an actual reality. It reminds us, as Baraka wrote, of the constant need to resist common evils and keep working for the greater good.

Amado and McPhee sound like spiritual brothers who keep feeding each other with fiery ideas and touching melodic-soulful themes, as if they have discovered an endless well of sacred songs. You can repeat their deep conversations on “Hot Folk” and “Subterranean Night Color” time and again and still wonder at this inspired magic. Kessler and Corsano know when to push forward with manic, propulsive energy and when to open the interplay for an introspective dynamics that highlights the distinct voices of this quartet and its profound camaraderie. Just listen to Kessler’s masterful bowed solo that introduces “Violent Souls” and Corsano’s rolling drums, and the way they together build the tension for Amado and McPhee's soaring solos. This great album ends with the soulful, fiery blues” Blue Blowers”.

Monday, May 4, 2026

The Thunks - Swarm Patterns (Trost, 2026)

By Brian Earley

…the Janus-like aspect of knowledge and cognition must be set against a background fabric of cultural possibility: individuals draw their self-understanding from what is conceptually to hand in historically specific societies or civilizations, a preexisting complex web of linguistic, technological, social, political and institutional constraints.

-Leslie Marsh and Christian Onof, 2007
“Stigmergic Epistemology, Stigmergic Cognition,” Cognitive Systems Research

No matter an individual’s greed, or desire for personal power, each of us works by necessity in collaboration with a larger social fabric. The utopian dream of nonhierarchical social structures may be more scientific fact entangling our actions in constant negotiation with the behaviors of those around us. Stigmergy, or communications and actions mediated with our surrounding environment, serves as a central component of swarm behavior: the phenomenon of starlings swooshing through the sky instantly negotiating each turn with the group so that the birds never collide with one another and form beautiful panoplies of arches and elastic contours.

No matter the political rift, so must human beings abide by the simple truth that we need each other to survive.

The Thunks, a trio assembled of one pianist and two drummers, manifest such coexistence in their recent release Swarm Patterns for Trost Records. On this work Elizabeth Harnik, the brilliantly inventive piano player who spends almost as much time playing the inner strings of the instrument as she does the outer keys, joins her former bandmate from the DEK Trio, drummer Didi Kern (the third member, “K,” is Ken Vandermark), and Martin Brandlmayr, himself a former collaborator with Harnik in the Trio of Mikolaj Trzaska, Harnik, and Brandlmayr.

The music on this album, comprising two long works, “Swarm Patterns I” and Swarm Patterns II,” is rich with energetic, spontaneous group swirling and swarming, but also materializes as extemporaneous or predetermined compositional patterns. Think Cecil Taylor’s concept of unit structures. For example, on “Swarm Patterns I” Harnik and the drummers create at least five distinct motific patterns they return to at various times through the twenty-nine minute work. After some opening swarming Harnik thunks the piano for the first time at 15 seconds and then lifts upwards into swarms of piano washes until developing a three and two note-thunking at the mid-range of the keyboard for the work’s first motif. The three musicians fly off into the stratosphere as a collective soaring Garuda until returning to the established pattern just after the one minute mark.

After five minutes into the piece Harnik is strumming the innards of the piano like a harp before establishing a be-dom-DOM sequence that will soon blend with the first pattern around 6:10 in the work.

This patterning happens over and over again, but so do spontaneously communicated stretches of interplay. At 7:20 atonal space time arrives and soon the drums are scratching on cymbals, followed by a series of tom hits. Stigmergy manifests in one of its clearest moments with a percussive SMACK around 7:50 prompting a strike on the piano strings by Harnik.

The piece alternates between synergistic hushes of silence framed by percussion and a swirling upward frenetic energy that lurches forward. The group attains autonomous, nonhierarchical vitality as tension synchronously builds and falls into quiet, and by the 23:50 mark the group develops its final motific pattern, which it quickly combines and recapitulates with motifs from the beginning and middle of the work.

A humorous piano splatter and a simultaneous drum and cymbal hit end the piece with laughter.

The group dynamics on Swarm Patterns are remarkable, and for some real swarming, check out the first five minutes of “Swarm Patterns II.” All over these works, the three members shift and fly and land and ascend like starlings or stars swirling in an expressionist night sky. But they are not avian creatures or orbs burning in the nether reaches of the cosmos, of course. These are three human beings showing the rest of us the possibility of beauty and harmony when individuals know they need each other to soar and shine.

Sunday, May 3, 2026

Globe Unity Orchestra - Live at Berliner Jazztage 1976

Just hitting the internet: from nearly 50 years ago and sounding as blasphemously fresh as it did then, this performance of the Globe Unity Orchestra is a must see. If you need more convincing, simply take a look at that list of musicians joining pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach on stage at the Berliner Jazztage that evening in early November. 

Peter Brotzmann: Alto Saxophone, Bass saxophone, 
Clarinet Evan Parker: Soprano Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone 
Gerd Dudek: Soprano Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone 
Rüdiger Carl: Alto Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone 
Michel Pilz: Clarinet, Bass clarinet 
Kenny Wheeler: Trumpet, Flugelhorn 
Manfred Schoof: Trumpet, Flugelhorn 
Albert Mangelsdorff: Trombone 
Paul Rutherford: Trombone 
Günter Christmann; Trombone 
Peter Kowald: Tuba, Bass 
Alexander von Schlippenbach: Piano 
Buschi Niebergall: Bass 
Han Bennink: Drums, Percussion, Clarinet 
Paul Lovens: Drums, Percussion

 

Friday, May 1, 2026

Johannes Bauer, Michael Griener, Olaf Rupp - Aufsturz (scatterArchive, 2026)

By Martin Schray

It’s always great when unexpected recordings of your favorite musicians surface, in this case the eternally underrated drummer Michael Griener, the great Olaf Rupp (if I had to pick my favorite guitarist in nowadays improv scene, it would be him), and trombonist Johannes Bauer, who died far too young and who was the living proof that free jazz can swing. When you listen to this live recording from Berlin’s Aufsturz Club from 2007, you shake your head in disbelief as to why this music wasn’t released back then. But the answer is relatively simple: the musicians organized this gig to have a demo tape that they could send to promoters. The simple stereo recording had a few technical flaws that could only be corrected now with modern studio technology. Finally, after mastering by Olaf Rupp, it has been made available in good sound quality - and the result is nothing short of sensational.

A long note opens “Aufsturz“, the first track, and already in the beginning almost everything that awaits you in the following 40 minutes is laid out. A powerful wave envelops you and takes your breath away. You feel as if you could literally grasp creativity: percussion shooting back and forth at lightning speed, machine gun fire, guitar glissandi and chopped runs, the accentuated trombone, which takes on the function of both the bass and a melody-leading wind instrument. Dark rumblings alternate with bright, sharp sounds. You don’t know where to listen first because you are pulled from one extreme to the other. Seemingly total chaos (but of course the band is complete control). Free jazz in the European tradition, as if from a picture book. It’s great fun feeling how the fiery improvisation of the opener penetrates your whole body. The sound swells like a tsunami and screams like a thunderstorm before the piece ebbs away.

In a beautiful article a few years ago, the major German newspaper DIE ZEIT claimed that Olaf Rupp plays guitar like only Olaf Rupp can play it. But that comes at a price, the article says, because he doesn’t fit into any pigeonhole. But isn’t that what it’s all about? His rushing runs and splintering sounds, his flageolet torrents, his booming feedback, and his generally bone-dry sound carry this recording. And it fits Johannes Bauer’s creaking, snarling horn, this sparkling, effervescent notes that stretch and compress sounds that are both real and unreal at the same time. Anyone who thinks that Griener’s drums hold the whole thing together is mistaken. It’s quite the opposite, his style, reminiscent of a hyperactive Paul Lovens, tends to tear everything apart. At the same time, however, he skillfully directs the dynamics of the improvisation. And of course, being the professionals they are, they saved the best for last. The 14-minute “Türsturz” sounds like a mixture of wild Sonic Youth, Derek Bailey, Jimi Hendrix, New York Art Quartet, and a distillation of Brötzmann's Machine Gun . It’s easy to get carried away by this force of nature.

Aufsturz is heaven and hell in one. So far, my favorite in 2026.

Aufsturz is available as a digital download. You can listen to and download the album on the scatterArchive bandcamp site: https://scatterarchive.bandcamp.com/album/aufsturz

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Mia Dyberg: Hometown Duos

By Paul Acquaro 

Two duo recordings from saxophonist Mia Dyberg from the tail of 2025...

Mia Dyberg and Axel Filip - HobbyHouse (Relative Pitch Records, 2025)


Danish saxophonist Mia Dyberg and Argentinian percussionist Axel Filip both currently call Berlin home and work together in a trio they've named "HobbyHouse." Avant-garde and experimental, their debut as a duo seems to focus on the intersection and overlay of timbre and textures as much, if not more, than the melodic and rhythmic sensibilities that also permeate their playing.
 
HobbyHouse starts with 'Feet in the water,' where long, hushed tones and gentle percussive vibrations intermingle gingerly, making for an expectant atmosphere. Then, they light off some small fireworks on 'Running horses,' spryly skipping rhythmically about. Next, 'Snow plow racer' combines the two approaches as a slowly unfolding, intervallic melody emerges over the splash of cymbals and taught figures.
 
A stand out track is the very short 'When they jump,' just slightly under two minutes of indeed jumping intensity. Here Dyberg's thoughtful playing bounces delightfully off Filip's agile figures for a fun romp. Skipping to the end, the closer, 'Swimming in the air' exudes a cool calmness, a gentle wrap up to a rich recording, which throughout the duo seems to be able to say quite a bit in the short duration of the tracks.
 

Mia Dyberg & Rieko Okuda - Glasscut (Kassiani Records, 2025)


Dyberg's duo with Japanese pianist and also current Berlin resident Reiko Okuda marks the debut not of their recorded work but of the Kassiani Records label, which has released Glasscut digitally and as a very limited edition LP. The album fits quite well sonically alongside Okuda and Dyberg's previous releases, Nigatsu 二月 from 2019 and Naboer from 2020. At times pensive and other times exuberant, the duo artfully follow their intuition.
 
The opening track's reservation is nerve wracking. The tension is palpable, first introduced by gentle breathiness from Dyberg and followed by a building of austere notes from Okuda that stretch a dissonant filament between the two instruments. It only gets more intense, suddenly breaking only when the next track begins. 'No Cut' is uptempo, starting with a curlicue melody from Dyberg, adorned with trills from Okuda. Here, one can hear the pianist's modern classical roots, which were long ago the focus of her studies before being drawn into the experimental fold, in the harmonic accompaniment. The track is both dense and light, moments of wildness tempered with more deliberate passages.
 
The final track, 'Jikan' begins with Dyberg with long solo introduction, demonstrating her jazz sensibilities and fragmented approach to melody. When Okuda joins, it is with single note lines that interject and intertwine for short stints. The piece develops in fits and starts, mixing restraint and eruptive play.
 
Glasscuts is an enjoyable and diverse recording from a two dynamic musicians in the contemporary improvisation scene.  
 

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Emmeluth’s Amoeba - With Love (Moserobie, 2026)



As I drove home from Philadelphia on March 28 of this year my soundtrack of choice was music from Scandinavia. Specifically, With Love, the latest release from Signe Emmeluth’s Amoeba. The specter of authoritarianism had brought me to Philly’s Love Park that day where I met up with 80,000 of my closest friends. A calling card of fascism has always been deliberate confusion and the restriction of information, both of which apply directly to my experience of With Love. When I clicked “Check out now” to purchase the physical record on Bandcamp from Moserobie Music Production, I was met with a message informing me this item no longer ships from Sweden to the United States, part of the fallout from the US mandate removing the de minimis tariff exemption. I don’t wish to trivialize the much more serious and life altering impacts of fascism on individual lives, where it rips apart families until the earth is charred and oil rains from the sky, but I also don’t want its tiny bruises to be normalized either. Information is growing a little harder to obtain in the US. Thank goodness the internet is still free enough for me to listen to music from a Swedish label.

I have long been in crazy love with Emmeluth’s compositions and recordings, and since Signe’s 2021 solo work Hi Hello I’m Signe , I acquire her albums as quickly as I can; a hard miss for me was the 25 edition release of Live 2022/2023with each cover a unique handpainted origami by Emmeluth herself (throw a shout my way if you know where I can find one!). Somehow, her work possesses a sound that is at once completely distinct and utterly new. This album is no exception. For example, mere seconds into the record’s second track, “Golugele,” there is no mistaking the sound for anything other than the Amoeba. Pianist Christian Balvig and Emmeluth bang down composed unison syncopations, while Karl Borjå’s jangling guitar alternates off beat chords with Sonny Sharrock like runs and drummer Ole Mofjell rolls the snare into splash and crash cymbal waves.

At times Emmeluth’s group evokes Don Cherry’s multi-thematic works where small themes emerge into expansive improvisations. In fact, like Complete Communion or Symphony for Improvisers, this album is one long suite, though perhaps it maintains a tighter line with composition than those legendary albums. At times Sun Ship era Coltrane is present, as it is on “Amoeba 1,” the first song on the record. The work, despite the community of free jazz ancestors smiling from the ether at their musical lineage, sounds like nothing else. Make no mistake, Emmeluth and the band are imitating nobody, but they do not come from nowhere. Although their roots may grow deep, they flower into petals and filaments not found on any other stem.

The music tumbles freely forward while remaining tightly fused. Check out the opening romp on “Amoeba 2” where Emmeluth’s horn soon signals the group in the direction of a heavy metal like guitar riff starting around the 2:00 mark. The work stomps along while operating with shocking precision, but really starts rocking as it continues into “Hubby,” the following track. The music converts into an asymmetrical wobble that escalates into a glissed wail around the 30 second mark. The riff returns and soon yields Emmeluth’s alto whistling at the top of the music before embarking upon a noise solo urged forward by Balvik crashing the piano keys.

“Pling Plong MF/Dripping Liquids/Pling Plong MF” follows the controlled chaos with mysterious ambience, and the record reaches its zenith on its closing work. “Something Old” returns the riff from “Amoeba 2” but varied and simplified and played on only strings at first (plucked on Balvig’s piano–or also on Borjå’s guitar?), and a trance-mania manifests as the group continues and varies this throughout the 9:52 work.

“Gåen,” the final song on the digital recording, seems to stand alone outside of the suite, and despite its opening flourish, emanates liquid meditation. It is soft and reassuring and sad and full of hope and is as filled with paradox as the band that plays it. I hope I have no illusions about my privilege in being able to listen to such a complex and beautiful work. The Amoeba is still tossing threads for us to catch and follow in the labyrinth, and I don’t want to grow complacent about how wonderful it is to have easy access to this remarkable music. The attention to detail, commitment to originality, and conscious lineage with its tradition all demonstrate just how much love went into the creation of this album, and it is with love that I thank those involved for it.

 

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Sónia Sànchez / Jordina Millà / dieb13 - Munich 2025 - Day 3 Set 1 (MMI Festival, 2026)

 

The Music & More Impro (MMI) Festival curates new, intimate musical and dance constellations, featuring artists from different generations and nationalities, and even different artistic disciplines, who have never played together—or at least not in that particular formation—for a one-time encounter and experience. The Festival began in Munich in 2016 but moved to Barcelona for its third and fourth editions, and returned to Munich in 2025.

The MMI Festival has released seven albums from its 2025 edition so far, documenting meetings between John Butcher and Marta Warelis, and Agustí Fernández and Lucía Martinez, among others. The last album in this series is of a trio of Catalan, Barcelona-based dancer Sónia Sànchez, who innovates the flamenco dance legacy with Japanese Butoh and Body Weather; fellow Catalan, Salzburg-based hyper-pianist Jordina Millà Benseny, who was introduced to the improvisational world by Fernández (who has also played with Sànchez, in a duo with Millà, and in the MMI Festival), plays with Barry Guy, and has collaborated with dance and theater groups before, including with Sànchez in Trio Mars; and Viennese turntables and electronics wizard dieb13 (aka Dieter Kovačič), who performed before with Millà.

This trio’s set opened the third and last day of the festival and was recorded live at Einstein Kultur in Munich in May 2025. Obviously, the album does not offer the full experience without Sànchez’s expressive face and dance moves, but you can hear her feet pounding the floor. The 51-minute free improvised piece begins with Millà producing delicate, otherworldly friction and percussive sounds from inside the piano, subtly extended by dieb13’s humming electronics. Slowly, it morphs into a resonant, enigmatic, and poetic texture, spiced with dramatic, fragmented pulses.

dieb13 kept introducing surprising, processed, and noisy sounds that stimulated the tension and disrupted any attempt to surrender to a familiar course, and mid-piece, he even adds a heavy, hypnotic, Fire! Trio-like pulse, and samples of vocal artist Phil Minton (dieb13’s long-time collaborator), while Millà transformed the grand piano into a twisted, restless harp. And just as this improvisation reached its chaotic climax, it gently slides into a cathartic coda, as if the trio has equipped its audiences with heightened sonic and visual awareness for the sober awakening that comes after such a masterful performance ends.

Monday, April 27, 2026

Yvonne Rogers - The Button Jar (Pyroclastic Records, 2026)

By Hillary Carelli-Donnell

For listeners hungry for something humane yet experimental, there is a new musician offering work that strikes this delicate balance. Brooklyn based composer and pianist Yvonne Rogers’ is blending playful free improvisation and a burnished yet fearless approach to the piano. She uses subtle dissonances in rhythm and texture, combined with an elegant sense of restraint to develop fresh yet timeless pieces that speak a language all her own.

Rogers grew up in Penobscot Maine and studied at the Eastman School of Music at the University of Rochester. Since relocating to New York City in 2022, she has quickly made her mark on the jazz and improvisational landscape, playing regularly with various ensembles including saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock’s Lilith and trumpeter Adam O’Farrill’s ELEPHANT. Last December she wrapped up a yearlong residency at Close Up and is now preparing a Spring Season Commission at Roulette. On a cold winter morning, we spoke about her creative process and her upcoming album.

The Button Jar, set for release on Pyroclastic Records in May,will be Rogers’ first solo effort and a follow up to her 2023 debut Seeds. She’ll be in good company on Pyroclastic, which has released work from such heavyweights as Mary Halvorson and Craig Taborn. The Button Jar is a mature collection of compositions that shows off Rogers’ versatility as both a composer and improviser. It contains an equal measure of minimalism and rich harmonic interplay, and a few completely improvised pieces. It's a record that situates her, as she says, “solidly between experimental and jazz”. The idea for the album was born when Kris Davis, the experimental pianist behind Pyroclastic Records and Rogers’ mentor, encouraged her to further develop the tiny explorations she was posting to Instagram. “Seeds, my first project, was a quartet record, and [Kris] really wanted me to explore my sound to go deeper into my thing,” said Rogers. Although the pieces originated as sketches and most remain under three minutes long, it's clear that Rogers has taken a thoughtful approach to composition, noting that it sometimes takes hours to write a few measures. Rogers recalls her mother would implore her, “If you’re going to use this button, you need to know how to sew it on,” as she dug through the dross in the craft room. “It needed to be intentional.… but also it was just for fun”. Indeed, her compositions on The Button Jar are lively and playful, but the intentionality of purpose is palpable throughout the record.

The album is sonic homage to Rogers’ upbringing in Coastal Maine and her connection to its estuarine environment, which shaped her creative practice. “I was always outside,” Rogers says, “It was such an imaginative childhood for me, the feeling of being totally alone in the woods and feeling like that was my space.” The album is an exploration of an inner world, but without the indulgence. The softer, more introspective tracks contrast well with the angular modernist elements found in others. The record opens with “Luster”, a counterpoint melody reminiscent of the repetitive unpredictable patter of raindrops. The title track “Button Jar” is a frantic, but ultimately coherent, scramble. On “Monkey’s Fist” named for a mariners knot, she goes in a different direction opening with a theme suggestive of Roy Ayers’ “We Live In Brooklyn Baby”. Three of the pieces, Avid Risks (an anagram of Kris Davis), the “Craft Room” and “Exhale” are wholly improvised and were recorded in a single take. That they’re indistinguishable in complexity and vigor from the other composed pieces speaks to her ability to pare down a complex musical idea into a succinct package. Jazz critic for the New Yorker, Whitney Balliett, once wrote that if Cecil Taylor is a hammer, then the keyboard is an anvil. With that in mind, on this album Rogers is a woodworker, and the piano is a tree.

Photo by Alice Plati

In the process of carving out her melodies, Rogers is experimenting with a distinctive sonic toolkit. “I never really got into voicings…I’m more interested in what textural effects an interval or a rhythm will have. I think texturally rather than harmonically. I would rather play something that I really don’t like rather than something I think is boring.” Choosing to take creative risks like these is what imbues her artistic statement with vitality and personality, and it’s also what makes it interesting to be in the audience for her performances.

While The Button Jar highlights her solo chops, Rogers also shines in an ensemble as a skilled and versatile accompanist. Her personal style, percussive and angular comes through in combo settings, but she says her attention is focused on moving in sync with the other musicians. Her ensemble playing feels like watching a murmuration of birds. “It's about anticipating where the other person is going to go, it's intuitive” she says. “Most people are reacting to the soloist, but I want to be going somewhere together”. Indeed, her upcoming Roulette Commission is focused on the artistic personalities of her quartet members. Rogers shared that the pieces collectively titled Odesare “directly inspired by the musical habits, rituals, and timbres unique to each of my collaborators, it encourages us to spend time getting to know each other, and to celebrate the magic of our idiosyncrasies.”

The fundamental humanity of her music comes through in her live performances as well. When asked about how to interest people in a music that might feel esoteric or challenging, Rogers offered: “I think the first step is to relate to your immediate surroundings, and include people in the room. Live music is having a moment. The act of gathering being exposed to something that you might not normally be exposed to is important. I think people are appreciative of that right now.” Musicians and audiences today are beset by the isolating and homogenizing forces of artificial intelligence and capitalism. In this environment her approach that weaves connections between improvised music, human beings and the natural world is a necessary one, and it could not have come at a better time.

The Button Jarwill be released on May 8th on Pyroclastic Records; she performs “Odes” at Roulette in Brooklyn on June 6th.

______________________________________________________________________

Hillary Carelli-Donnell is a musician, DJ and sometimes writer interested in how democracy manifests in society, culture and music.

Sunday, April 26, 2026

Marc Ribot - When the World's on Fire

"Where will you run, when the world's on fire?"asked guitarist and tune-smith Marc Ribot last year on the title track from his pensive Map of a Blue City album.  

It seemed like an urgent enough question then and a sounding of an alarm now.

Saturday, April 25, 2026

A book and a movie: NOW JAZZ NOW and SUN RA

By Ferruccio Martinotti

NOW JAZZ NOW - 100 Essential Free Jazz & Improvisation Recordings 1960-80 (Ecstatic Peace Library, 2025) 

WARNING: This book is addictive and may lead to compulsive and repeated use of your PayPal, Discogs and Bandcamp accounts. We recommend deactivating them immediately for at least a month after reading.

First things first: this is not a book about free jazz, this is THE book about free jazz. We haven't seen Johannes Rod's work yet, and we're sure it's excellent, but as far as we know, Now Jazz Now MUST be on your book shelves between the Penguin and As Serious as Your Life, period. 

In short, strengths and weaknesses. 

PROS: 

1) The Layout. a) Thick, heavy-coated paper; b) Cover and inside jacket photos (Don Cherry, Pharoah Sanders and Sonny Sharrock, Marshall Allen, Carla Bley, Frank Wright, and Noah Howard) are among the most incredible you've ever seen. c) Each album's description includes a cover photo of the first vinyl pressing (you 3, bloody damn discaholics...). d) A preface by Neneh Cherry and a final poem by Joe McPhee are worth the ticket alone; 

2) The Authors. One thing's for sure: with a forward line like that, even Torino Football Club would be playing in the Champions League. Byron Coley confirms himself as that seeker of the Musical Klondike who sifts the stream in search of golden flakes and nuggets. And he finds them (thank you, Mr. Coley, for the "guided tour" in the '90s through Memphis' darkest alleys following Gibson Bros. et al.). Thurston Moore (Thurston Moore!) with humility and modesty approaches the records and the musicians he loves and shares his feelings with us. Mats Gustafsson…well, what can we say, Mats writes as he plays: visceral, passionate, incandescent, engaging, you read it and in an instant (autobiographical reference) you find “Nana,” “We Now Create,” and “King Alcohol” keeping company with your records; 

3) The Discoveries. A cornucopia of inspirations, ideas and emotions through a sonic journey. From the Ensemble Muntu to the Edward Vesala Trio, from Abdul Al-Annan to Mario Schiano, from the Black Unity Trio to Lokomotiv Konkret, you'll never cease to be amazed; 

4) The Confirmations. The aim of the book isn't a competition between the authors to find the strangest album on earth, so we find records that any average avid listener would listen to: Mitchell, Rollins, Coltrane, Braxton, Howard, Parker, Giuffre, etc., but described in such a contextualized and exciting way that when you put them back on the turntable for the hundredth time, it will almost seem like you've never heard them before. 

5) The Global Unity. From the United States to Japan, from Finland to England, from France to Italy, from Germany to Sweden, there are no walls, barriers, tariffs or visas. The only form of suprematism is the universal one of the music that will move you so much that you'll forget the usual "why-is-there-this-and-not-that" game. 

CONS. One major, heartbreaking flaw: given Mats and Thurston's direct involvement in the music scene from the '80s and '90s onward, it will be nearly impossible for a volume 2 to ever see the light. This book is the epitome of BUY OR DIE stuff. 

 

SUN RA: DO THE IMPOSSIBLE (Christine Turner, 2024)

For the twelfth edition, the Seeyousound International Music Film Festival in Torino fulfills its usual goal of catering to diverse tastes without ever compromising on quality. Our palate found what it was looking for in the Italian premiere of the biographical documentary on Sun Ra by American director Christine Turner (The Barber of Little Rock, J'Nai Bridges Unamplified, A Knee on the Neck, Token of a Great Day, Homegoings, Betye Saar: Taking Care of Business, Paint & Pitchfork). The Music Purist Guards in the theater were arising the questions: can 85 minutes tell the story of the life and works of a genius of the caliber of Sun Ra, one of the greatest visionaries of the 20th century? A specious question, obviously not. Would we be more satisfied watching every evening at the Fondation Maeght on rotation? A rhetorical question, obviously yes. As we listened to such learned questions, we wondered how many Ra records these "professors" actually had but ok, let's forget it... 

The film is an excellent work that, on the one hand, serves as an excellent introduction for those unfamiliar (or not too familiar) with Sun Ra, and on the other, will certainly satisfy the readers of our community. The archive footages are breathtaking: from his native Birmingham to his trip to Egypt among the pyramids, it cannot fail to impress even the most completest of collectors, and the live scenes featuring keyboards from Saturn, magic spheres, tiaras, and mystical headdresses leave the viewer speechless. The external contributions are a notable added value, including Arkestra members like Marshall Allen, Cheryl Banks-Smith, Ahmed Abdullah, musicians DJ Spooky and King Britt, and commentators Harmony Holiday and Louis Chude-Sokei. In short, a kaleidoscopic journey into the surreal world of a larger-than-life character like nobody else, by definition impossible to be summed up in this or in any other film but that does not diminish the crystalline beauty of “Do the Impossible”.