Tagged: French

The Fire Next Time

pizMO is a collective / collaborative entity that could be enormous and diffuse, wishing to project a façade of anonymity while also claiming to be a hydra-headed entity of many creators, although it may just as likely be the laptop trio of Christophe Havard, Jerome Joy and Julien Ottavi. The group sent us a copy of blst (FIBRR RECORDS 012) in June 2013. This current line-up is the “born-again” incarnation of the group which began 13 years ago with Joy, Ottavi and Yannick Dauby. In describing this work, terms bandied about include “environments” and “audio architecture”, suggestive of a large-scale distribution of events, statements, and effusions happening – very fleetingly and temporarily – in places which cannot even be identified with any certainty. Ay, it’s hard to pin down exactly what’s going on with this assemblage of live recordings, captured from festivals in France and Norway during 2012, but for over 53 minutes you will experience a continuous barrage of formless, bewildering and strangely exciting electronic music, dispersed over a wide area without explanation or context.

As you have gathered, pizMO have high ambitions for their music, hoping to somehow bypass conventional means of communication and presentation, and even transcend the limits of human perception to some degree; they’d be pleased to see all forms of centralised system collapse, and want to place themselves in the centre of a musical revolution. This is all expressed in a manifesto printed on the artworks, stated in English and in French. Their attitude is redolent of a certain impatience with the way things are (narrow, confined, predictable, monolithic), and a desire to find some new, secret, invisible space of vitality where their music can freely exist and thrive in a near-infinite continuum. The main thing is to ignore and undermine the dominant music industry, and especially concepts of ownership; the work is made available under “copyleft” terms. A lot of this, it seems to me, is about bumping one’s head on technological limits; I get the feeling that pizMO would love to exist as an unending stream of digital data if they could, transmitted forever around the world across broadband networks, and made freely available to the people. The actual music /sound they make is not so incendiary or innovative as any of this may imply, but when it doesn’t lapse into meaningless white noise, this is a very engaging listen, with many unexpected swoops and slippery sensations.

Barrio Chino

Miraculously, a CD reissue appeared about this time last year of Superstitions (MUSIC À LA COQUE COQ-05) by Nu Creative Methods, an item which originally came out on cassette in 1984 on ADN tapes. This is the team of Pierre Bastien and Bernard Pruvost, both unique creators in the field of jazz-inflected French experimental music of the 70s and 80s, and part of a pantheon which by rights ought to include Jac Berrocal and Pascal Comelade as twin deities at the top of a very high but relatively unknown totem pole, with Daniel Deshays cavorting at their feet, acting as the medicine man. I think this is the third item from the duo; they also made a release called Nu Jungle Dances in 1977, of which the vinyl original on Davantage is a pretty major rarity, likewise Le Marchand De Calicots which came out on the same label in 1981. Bastien has been building his own musical instruments pretty much as soon as he could climb out of his playpen, and is fairly well known for his mechanical orchestra, built using Meccano parts, which comprises instruments which can “play” themselves by means of rotary engines (often using turntables), producing a clunky but extremely endearing musical effect that is akin to a three-dimensional music box. I suppose Bruce Lacey would be the nearest UK equivalent to this delightful genius, if we’re looking for parallels…

Superstitions doesn’t feature that mechanical orchestra, but Bastien plays his own weirdified electric guitar on three tracks, and contributes cornet, double bass, and alarm clock elsewhere. Pruvost plays an astonishing array of percussive and stringed instruments, including a thumb piano, xylo drums, and a hunters harp lute. Most of his arsenal is derived from African and Eastern instruments, there’s a lot of tuned percussion, and the music created by Nu Creative Methods leans towards an ethnic sound, distorted and détourned in imaginative fashion by Westerners, even taking in some influence from free jazz or improvisation, and using a map provided by Harry Partch to assist as they navigate this uneven and bumpy terrain. Imagine Don Cherry’s Mu as remade by cartoon mice from an unseen and suppressed black-and-white animated film of the 1930s unearthed from the Gaumont Pathé archives. Conventional rhythms are non-existent, and each tune rattles along like a rustic hand-made cart passing over a rickety bamboo bridge; in like manner, melodies bypass all known modal scales and the notes tend to land where they may, as contented as a swarm of fat bees or horseflies settling on the backs on a herd of moving cattle. The music is never out to shock or startle us, but remains perpetually surprising and extremely engaging in a gentle, open-ended way; all the more impressive for being 90% acoustic; even the electric guitar is not heavily amplified, the better to let us hear and appreciate Bastien’s odd swoops and glissandi, his hands darting about like friendly spiders.

If you don’t fall in love with this music instantly, then scope the back cover image of the pair; how can you resist? Just the sight of Pruvost blowing his transverse horn buru and wearing a decorated jacket to die for ought to make you clasp this release to your warm bosom, not to mention the mouthwatering array of musical paraphernalia strewn across park benches. I wish I’d been picnicking there on that day! There’s also a photograph inside the CD cover which suggests Superstitions may have played some part in a dance theatre piece; Bastien has certainly been involved (with Pascal Comelade) in creating music for dance companies, but I have found no evidence to link these recordings to any specific performed work. There’s also artwork on the CD which resembles Bali shadow puppets, making a not-inappropriate visual link to gamelan music. This reissue includes a short bonus track, ‘Alpinic Railway’, a jaunty and jolly little throwaway piece which in both title and sound exactly recreates the feeling of being transported along a bumpy and mountainous route by old-fashioned, steam-driven, mechanical methods – much like the entire record. At a time when so-called civilisation is attempting to digitise just about everything that moves, what a refreshing treat to hear great acoustic music made using an understanding of old school Newtonian principles.

An uncluttered agglomeration

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From 17 October 2012 we have this very wonderful curio by Emmanuel Mailly sent to us from his village in the North of France (possibly Saint-Aubin). He writes to us that he makes “music noisy but smart”. I’m about halfway into this delightful album and so far I don’t hear much out-and-out noise (with the possible exception of ‘Agglomerat’, which goes fairly nuts with the echo chamber and the tape manipulation), but I do hear plenty of ideas and invention. La Dynastie Des Polygones (NO LABEL) is a truly unique bric-a-brac item where the music is assembled from performances, tapes and overdubs done with exquisite care. But it’s not over-crowded bric-a-brac, nor is it overly “controlled”. Mailly plays all the instruments and does “programming”, which may imply some computer elements in the mix, but what I’m struck by so far is his restraint and abstemious approach to his methodology. I’ve heard my fair share of records where solo geniuses see fit to overdub multiple layers into oblivion, resulting in a clotted mess on the finished album where competing frequencies destroy each other in the internecine trench warfare of droning sludge. By contrast, M. Mailly has a refreshing lack of clutter in his musical space; instruments stand out; sounds can be heard, and they complement each other. The performances are eccentric, beautiful, simple, and clean. There are a lot of acoustic instruments, “crazy” or excessive effects are kept to a minimum, and good-natured humour abounds at every turn. I’d like to think if we were fortunate enough to be invited to his apartment we would find every fine art objet and wall-hanging arranged in perfect harmony with the small, minimal pieces of furniture. And then we would see his 15 stuffed monkeys sitting in jars in the corner. At least one track title, ‘Un Jardin Japonias’, indicates the miniaturist nature of his musical endeavours, where planning/organisation go hand in hand with a willingness to let the roots and grasses grow wild as they may.

If asked to convey more about these musical diamonds which sparkle for precious moments and then vanish in the night, I suppose I might grasp at metaphors for daydreaming and lucid visions; that fleeting instant of insight which can arise from a strong meditative chain of thought. This intangible aspect of the human brain has rarely been translated into audio form so successfully. One might almost think Mailly had invented the long wished-for “sonic helmet” which a composer need only slip over his cranium and plug into a complex automatic device in order to realise 15 glorious symphonies before lunchtime. I’m trying to get across the very natural feeling of these compositions, which are as perfect as wild flowers growing on a mountainside under a bright blue sky. If you’re a fan of The Faust Tapes, then I assume you favour a record whose very grooves can’t really contain the vast number of mad ideas that are packed into its seething vinyl surface. But I suspect Faust sweated blood (and nearly killed their poor engineer) in the sheer effort of making that record. Emmanuel Mailly makes it seem so easy. There’s an honesty and uncontrived simplicity to the way this musical half-mad balminess has been created that is very winning and companionable. On dirait un nouvel Pierre Bastien. Marc Gérenton provided the cover image which suggests just the right combination of nature and artifice – a surrealist bric-a-brac tree, growing sticks, human hands, a guitar, animal horns, and Magritte-like lathe-turned furnishings. At the hour that I write these lines, Mailly only appears to have two albums available, but he’s been practising his own unique brand of experimental music for 20 years. The aim appears to be “exposing” his sounds, performing in public and not concealing his methods, getting participants involved in the very process. A photo on his website shows you how children, at least, “get it” instantly. So should you.

Emmanuel Mailly

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Vinyl Venisons Part 1


Ressuage
Semelles De Fondation
FRANCE BLOC THYRISTORS VINYLE 0090 / BIMBO TOWER RECORDS 017 LP (2011)
Another nice French vinyl from the Bloc Thyristors label. The drummer Jean-Noël Cognard kindly keeps sending me these records and I’m sure there are least two more unopened items from him awaiting me in the backlog. The presentation of all of these Bloc Thyristors records is just so sumptuous. Thick card foldaround cover with silkscreened artwork by Marc-Antoine Beaufils, using subtle colour harmonies and combinations. And it’s pressed in light blue vinyl for that extra sky-blue flavour that dogs go for. The music on the grooves is a lively mix of jazz, improv and intellectual art-prog performed by under-rated geniuses and played on woodwinds and brass with a traditional bass and drums backing, plus additional modern-ness injected by live electronics and laptop. These tunes veer from gloomy dirge (‘Portiques Indéformables’ is a splendid plaintive groaner) to lively Miles Davis styled romps. Instrumental lines coil around each other like fast-growing tree roots, throttling each other until the sap flows like wine. All players have developed a very expressive sound, punchy and juicy, be it the bassist Benjamin Duboc with his well-rounded slaps or the clarinettist Michel Pilz murmuring like a fluent Venusian reptile in heat. Very sensual playing like painters smearing their daubs for the sheer delight of colours and light. I particularly like ‘Les Travées Basses Des Façades’ as a simple duo set between clarinet and bass (later joined by drummer), but the full band experience on ‘De Béton Et De Verre’ or ‘Pré-Tension’ is also exhilarating. And pre-tentiousness is something these Frenchers are not afraid to be accused of, even as they occasionally hark back to 1980s Rock In Opposition or 1970s French prog in their eclectic playing. 2010 recordings made in the Pierre Schaeffer studio. Probably you can get a copy of this from the Bimbo Tower shop in Paris.

Ryu Hankil / Hong Chulki / Nick Hoffman
Sonne
USA PILGRIM TALK PT20 LP (2012)
Some vinyl overlooked since May 2012 from the Pilgrim Talk label. In these quarters we like Nick Hoffman and his many low-key projects which cover quiet improvised music, Black Metal, and power noise, but are mostly quite hard to classify. We also like the way he doesn’t boast or gab loudly about his achievements. This vinyl is also unassuming in spite of its freaky, bloodthirsty cover image, and the music resists simplistic appraisal. Sonne documents a trio comprising Hoffman, Ryu Hankil, and Hong Chulki and was recorded in Korea. American Hoffman is actively engaged in a hands across the water programme with Asian improvisers. He’s done more for Korea than the United Nations Security Council, that’s for sure. Both of the young Korean players here have moved away from their respective pop group / rock band beginnings, and taken turns into their own form of weird and far-out exploratory improvisation, one of them inspired to do so by Otomo Yoshihide. Now they both make odd noises with electrical devices, Chulki in particular choosing to subvert normal functions of his various playback devices. This shortish slab of vinyl has many of the label’s hallmarks, being decorated with old engravings and Hoffman drawings that invoke Satanic, morbid or esoteric themes, and the music itself is not explained at all. All we know is that it was recorded in a former industrial complex of some sort. Intentions, ideas, role-playing – even a simple instrument list – all of this contextual detail is denied to us, leaving us face to face with the stark void of strange and haphazard-sounding crackles and rumbles, interrupted by clonking percussive strokes. I much prefer it this way and while the music may occasionally appear baffling, boring and pointless, it is also very honest and has a rawness that is very bracing. For my previous speculations on the unique qualities of Pilgrim Talk releases, see this post. Limited pressing of 108 copies!

Quando Quandary


Superdisque (SUB ROSA SR321) was sent to us in November, an uncanny record made by three towering personalities in Paris and musically occupying a twilight area which somehow includes improvisation, jazz, rock, folk, African and Tibetan music, poetry, pop, sound poetry, and much more. With this release, the strange world of Ghédalia Tazartès is slowly coming together for me. I’m usually stricken by a horrible sense of inferiority when faced with his work because I don’t know anything about the Middle-Eastern musical forms (and presumably many other ethnic sources) that have fed into the mind and body of this astonishing Turkish-Parisian singer, and I look despairingly at my shelves which are sadly unoccupied by items from the Ocora back catalogue. Listening to the uncanny bellows, drones, songs and vocal improbabilities of Tazartès on this record, which the press release helpfully orients with its references to African and Tibetan music, it feels more like the ethnic music of a completely fictional race of human beings – strange shamans, wizards and druids that never actually existed. Maybe it’s more helpful for me at the moment to think of Tazartès as a gifted fiction-writer, a musical version of Jorge Luis Borges who conjures up his impossible visions in sound and music instead of the written word. Certainly the sound poetry of vocalist extraordinaire Henri Chopin is another useful navigational aid for the listener, and few vocal artists took more liberties with “reality” than Chopin, a lyrical fictionist of the first degree who repeatedly delved into his own two lungs in an effort to serve up deep and confusing psychological torrents of voice-based mash. In his unique form of fiction-making, Tazartès ends up revealing equally deep truths about the richness and strangeness of humanity.

Equally remarkable to find Jac Berrocal playing on this album too. To me he’s another musical conundrum whose incredible music does not yield its secrets lightly, and I’ve been working hard at the puzzle as manifested on his 1970s Futura and D’Avantage recordings, only to find all my solutions are confounded by any subsequent revisits to those essential Alga Marghen reissues. If we’re going to allow speculative fiction, what if Miles Davis had remained in Paris in 1949 and never returned to America, truly steeping himself in the existentialist philosophy and free-thinking atmosphere? The results might be something like the muted and serpentine trumpet work we hear slithering around this Superdisque record, where the studio echo effect of Teo Macero has been replaced by the digital proxy of David Fenech’s mixing desk. Last year my Berrocal fave rave was the Hot Club LP Straight Outta Bagnolet, but there his oddly syrupy sound was dissolved and mutated into an even more glutinous strawberry parfait thanks to Dan Waburton’s far-out production on that weird group collaboration. Here, Berrocal only has one other instrumentalist to contend with (see below), and his brassy melancholic lines stand out like the cries of chimeras, unicorns and hippogriffs rescued from a mythological past and recast as sculptures in a magical workshop. You can run your fingers over the sinewy lines of Berrocal’s trumpet work as surely as you touch a Brancusi or Giacometti.

David Fenech recorded and mixed this item, but he also plays electric guitar, turntables, toys, percussion and sampling, working as hard as Fred Frith did to provide the matchless instrumental backdrops for Art Bears. Presumably as founder of the trio and owner of the studio where this was made, he’s the unofficial producer of the album and may be responsible for the uncluttered sound. It’s a very direct record where studio technique has been used to a bare minimum; few overdubs, a little sparing echo. All the strangeness comes from the performances, a strangeness somehow confirmed by the surreal back cover image where the musicians appear on a blank field with a gigantic octopus suspended above them. Shared secret knowledge with Captain Beefheart.

With the accordion playing on some tracks (Zap Pascal does it on ‘Porte De Bagnolet’, but elsewhere it’s Berrocal or Tazartès himself), we’re almost on safer and recognisable turf as the singer appears to be approximating a forgotten rural French folk song, occasionally even with lyrics recognisable as French on an album otherwise characterised by wordless vocalising. This has the fleeting effect of suggesting all these other fictions actually have a basis in historical reality. To bolster this impression further, there is ‘Ife L’Ayo’ which is inspired by the work of the Nigerian drummer Solomon Ilori; ‘J’Attendrai’, which derives from the singing of the pre-war chanteuse Rina Ketty; and ‘Sainte’ which is a setting of a poem by Stéphane Mallarmé, the untranslatable French symbolist. The presence of conch shells and human bones used as wind instruments is but another adjunct to this uncanny woven tapestry of half-true, half-mythological musical extravagance.

Footage of an Uproar


Another tasty French casserole from Franck Vigroux, a half-hour CD simply called Live (D’AUTRES CORDES RECORDS DAC 191) where he hammers his turntables mercilessly along with some spirited poundage from the drummer Rodolphe Loubatiére. Minimal this one ain’t; the pair are determined to fill just about all the available space with noisy and lively incident, virtually recreating every key album of avant-garde European prog-rock from Magma to Etron Fou Leloublanc. On this live set from a music fest in Geneva, Vigroux mines remarkable moments of energy and surprising sqwawkery from his record collection, while Loubatiére drives his drumkit like a custom racecar tearing around an illegal dirt-track. The photo of the tower on the front cover seems to assert their very imperialist aims; expect your corner of the world to be annexed in the next few months, if these two anarchists get their way.

Speaking of progressive rock, my initial impression of Tales of FiNiN (DISCUS 39CD) by Julie Tippetts and Martin Archer is that this multi-talented Sheffield player and his partner have finally got around to realising a “reimagined” version of Tales From Topographic Oceans. It’s a double-CD packed in a quite luscious triple-gatefold cover with a watercolour painting by Tippetts that could easily have appeared on any given LP of English or Celtic folk-rock in the 1970s. And yes, without a shadow of a doubt it’s a concept album of some sort, as one cursory glance at the song titles will indicate, with its numerous references to the topography and features of their imaginary world – Fininbrook, Finintor, Fininsridge, etc. Archer provides keyboard and woodwind backdrops to the vocal acrobatics of singer Tippetts, along with the help of talented players from the Discus repertory such as Chris Sharkey, Charlie Collins, Paul Schatzberger, UTT, James Archer, and others. Archer describes this project as “extended jazz and electronic song forms”, and states “we leave the listener to interpret the story”.

David Lumsdaine is an electro-acoustic composer whose work I am delighted to discover, and whether Big Meeting (NMC D171) is representative of his other compositional efforts or no, it’s a beautiful item and one to investigate with all speed. This Australian-born fellow moved to the UK in the 1950s, and among other things he met Peter Zinovieff in the 1960s and composed a couple of electronic works at the EMS Studio, now both sadly unattainable; and did some work at the BBC, making field recordings of London into a musique-concrète collage for a radio play called Babel. In 1970 he got a teaching chair at the University of Durham, where in 1971 he realised the present work, making use of location recordings of The Durham Miners’ Gala, locally called The Big Meeting. Effectively a “collage of voices, speeches, songs and brass bands” (a list to which I must add the beautiful sound of church bells), it’s quite a subdued, gentle and moving work, where even the liveliest moments of laughter and applause seem to have had half the animation sucked out of them. Ay, there’s a real valedictory ambience to these grainy, washed-out aural snapshots; given the fate that would befall the mining industry in the mid-1980s, it could almost be said to be a prescient piece of music-making. Lumsdaine’s electronic treatments of the sounds are not violent or wild, and his subtle tonalities betoken his profound sympathy with the people and the locations he recorded.

Vialka is the art-rock duo of Marylise Frecheville and Eric Boros, and La Poursuite De L’Excellence (VIA-008) is a great collection of animated music created mostly with just bass guitar and drums – a more refined and European take on the same set-up used by Lightning Bolt or Ruins. Plus they both sing (wrenching, barking and spitting their hurt vocal observations from closely-seamed throats) with all the passion of punk dayglo variants of traditionalist French Chanson practitioners. Bob Drake did the recording, and weirdly Vialka do sound in places a bit like The EC Nudes. Decorated with some flourishes of keyboard and brass, this is mostly a spartan-sounding record allowing the listener to concentrate on the stark urgency and precision of the duo’s edgy, paranoid playing; Frecheville in particular drums as though she was expecting a knock on the door from Interpol at any moment. I see from their site there’s a nice chunky vinyl edition of this available, too.

Labasheeda play some quite nice growly avant-rock on The Twilight State (PRESTO CHANGO RECORDS PCR 003-2); this Amsterdam band has the estimable Saskia van der Giessen as its lynchpin, and she delivers confident sweeps of the upper body whether playing guitar or violin, and her singing voice is characterised by a clipped, world-weary tone as if she’s daring all the men in the room to try and impress her. Judging by the action-shot of her playing the violin here, she’s certainly no string-bean and you wouldn’t want to take her on in an arm-wrestling competition. From the cover, I’d half-expected another dreary slice of ambient murkiness, but this is an album of taut and muscular stripped-down no-nonsense rock songs that you’d happily file alongside your 1980 LPs on Homestead and SST.

Opera Box (SPRAYPLASTIC SP-5595) is a nice metallic surprise from Singapore, slipped inside a pink envelope – perhaps this is the traditional Asian way of expressing a friendly greeting to a music lover. Little friendliness found in the contents when I popped open this DVD slim box, though. Awk Wah recorded this CDR item which starts out as shapeless gritty noise but gradually resolves itself into a percussion album of sprawling thrash. Shark Fung is the player here, who also plays in Amino Acid Orchestra, and though it’s a solo record we seem to hear some detuned guitar feedback and thrumbs accompanying his monotonous and futile beats; mayhap he’s kicking a guitar-amp set-up with his free foot while the other one trips the bass drum. While there may not be a great deal of fire or attack in Shark’s arm and foot movements, he does succeed in creating an overall texture of unpleasant grittiness, metallic scrape and unpatterned rhythms that succeeds perfectly for me; it conveys a real sense of defeat and claustrophobia, like a bound man sewed up in a mailsack trying to wriggle free with nothing more than a small nail file to make his escape. “It seems as real as now,” is the metaphysical utterance printed on the back.

All-French II (TSP radio 05/09/08)

  1. Ma Banlieue Flasque, ‘N.S.K.’
    Original issue Ma Banlieue Flasque, FRANCE CELLULOID LTM 1.021 LP (1979)
  2. Jean Guérin, ‘Triptik 2′ (1971)
    From Tacet, ITALY ELICA MPO-3560 CD (2001)
    Original issue FRANCE FUTURA SON 04 LP
  3. Fille Qui Mousse, ‘Cantate Disparate’ (1972)
    From Trixie Stapleton 291, FRANCE SPALAX 14919 CD (1998)
  4. Pierre Bastien, ‘Gypsy Rhythm’ (1986)
    From Les Premières Machines 1968-1988, FRANCE MUSEA GAZUL GA 8687.AR CD (2006)
  5. Lard Free, ‘Acide Framboise’ (1973)
    From Lard Free, FRANCE SPALAX 14225 CD
  6. Jac Berrocal, ‘R.a.s.’ (1979)
    From Catalogue, ITALY ALGA MARGHEN plana-B 9TES.o58 CD (2005)
  7. Red Noise, ‘Galactic Sewer-Song’
    Original issue Sarcelles Locheres, FRANCE FUTURA RED 01 LP (1970)
  8. Pascal Comelade, ‘Vertical’
    Original issue Paralelo, FRANCE PARASITE PAR 002 LP (1980)
  9. Nu Creative Methods, ‘Brikhebana’
    Original issue Nu Jungle Dances, FRANCE D’AVANTAGE DAV05 LP (1978)
  10. Jac Berrocal, ‘Leila Concerto’
    Original issue Musiq Musik, FRANCE FUTURA RECORDS SON 06 LP (1973)
  11. Bernard Bonnier, ‘Blue Marine’ (1984)
    From Casse-Tête, CANADA ORAL 23 CD (2008)
  12. Pascal Comelade, ‘Séquence 1-4′ (1978)
    From Back to schizo, FRANCE MUSEA GAZUL GA 8679.AR CD (2004)
  13. Bernard Vitet, ‘Trolley Grésilleur’
    Original issue La Guêpe, FRANCE FUTURA SON 05 LP (1971)
  14. Mahogany Brain, ‘Sky-Fish’
    Original issue With (Junk-Saucepan) When (Spoon-Trigger), FRANCE FUTURA RED 02 LP (1971)
  15. Jean-Baptiste Barriere, ‘Situations Extremes’
    Original issue Pandémonium: Non, Jamais l’espérance, FRANCE ATEM 7004 LP [1976]

The Sound Projector radio show,
originally broadcast on Resonance 104.4 FM

Organ music (TSP radio show 17/06/05)

  1. Aaron Copland, ‘Preamble (For a Solemn Occasion)’
    Organ played by Hans-Ola Ericsson
    From Organ Music from The USA, SWEDEN BIS BIS-CD-510 CD (1992)
  2. Olivier Messiaen, ‘Apparition de l’Église Eternelle’ (1932)
    Organ played by the composer
    From Messiaen par lui-même. L’Oeuvre d’Orgue (1926-1951), FRANCE PATHE MARCONI / EMI 2 C 153-16291/6 6 x LP (1978)
  3. Ikarus, ‘Eclipse’ (1971) (fade)
    Hammond organ played by Wolf Dieter Struntz
    From Ikarus, GERMANY SECOND BATTLE SBLP 032 LP (1995)
  4. Bengt Hambraeus, ‘Interferences for the Organ’ (1961-1962) (fade)
    Played by Karl Erik Welin
    From Interferences / Constellations II, UNITED KINGDOM PHILIPS (FOUR FRONT) 4FE8001 LP (1965)
  5. Moondog, ‘Logrundr no XIII in F-sharp Major’ + ‘Logrundr No XII in B-flat Minor’
    Played by Fritz Storfinger
    From Moondog. Instrumental Music by Lous Hardin, USA MUSICAL HERITAGE SOCIETY MHS 3903 LP (ND)
  6. Steamboat Switzerland, ‘VI’
    Hammond organ played by Dominik Blum
    From wertmüller, GERMANY GROB 655 CD (2005)
  7. Leif Elggren, ‘Royal Organ’
    From Spire. Organ works past present & future, UK TOUCH TONE 20 2 x CD (2004)
  8. Philip Jeck, ‘Stops’
    From Spire, op cit.
  9. Finnbogi Pétursson, ‘Diabolus’
    From Spire, op cit.
  10. Emerson Lake and Palmer, ‘Eruption’ + ‘Stones of Years’ (fade)
    From Tarkus, UNITED KINGDOM ISLAND RECORDS ILPS 9155 LP (1971)
  11. Arne Nordheim, ‘Colorazione’ (1968) (fade)
    Organ played by Kare Kolberg
    From Colorazione / Solitaire / Signals, UNITED KINGDOM PHILIPS 854.005 AY LP (1969)
  12. György Ligeti, ‘Etude Nr 1, Harmonies’
    Played by Gerd Zacher
    From 2nd String Quartet et al, GERMANY DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON 2530 392 LP (1973)
  13. Sun Ra And His Astro Infinity Arkestra, ‘Friendly Love I’ (1973)
    Organ played by Sun Ra
    From Pathways to Unknown Worlds / Friendly Love, USA EVIDENCE ECD 22218 CD (2000)
  14. Oliver Messiaen, ‘Le Banquet Céleste’ (1926)
    From L’Oeuvre d’Orgue, op cit.

The Sound Projector radio show,
originally broadcast on Resonance 104.4 FM