Jim O'Rourke needs no introduction. Born in Chicago, Illinois, and later moved to New York, you can now find him in Tokyo, Japan, where he lives. Of course, when he's not traveling around the world.
There are few artists who have been as influential and relevant in the alternative music scene over the past twenty-five to thirty years as Jim O'Rourke. A brilliant musician and a producer known for being a member of two more than important bands over the years like Gastr Del Sol (with David Grubbs) and Sonic Youth, the collaboration that probably gave him the most notoriety. But this still wouldn't be enough to talk about this artist and his career during which he has also received important recognitions such as being awarded by the Foundation for Contemporary Arts in New York City, founded, among others, by the seminal artist and musician John Cage.
He has recorded and produced albums of various genres, from jazz to art-rock to electronic music, and has collaborated with Sonic Youth, Red Krayola, Joanna Newsom, and Fennesz; he has produced some of these artists' works and records by Superchunk, Smog, Faust, and his work as a producer for Wilco was, I would say, decisive for the success of Jeff Tweedy's band. Of course, during these years, he has also recorded solo albums. Some of which with Chicago's Drag City. The last one came out last year, 'Simple Songs', and indeed, after many years, it was the first album where O'Rourke plays what could be defined as eight 'simple' songs. It is a 'songwriter' album that was very well received by critics, but I must admit I did not particularly love it. It seemed too conventional compared to his standards and too sophisticated to be a 'songwriter' album. I didn't find particular content on an emotional level.
This does not clearly make Jim O'Rourke just a mere performer. I don't believe this, and I never thought so. On the contrary, I am convinced that he manages to be truly exciting and communicative even in his most experimental works. Probably, in truth, he manages to be much more communicative in this way than in others. And this is really curious because, indeed, just a little while ago, I was discussing with a friend what is considered to be the eternal and always relevant comparison between humanism and technique. What matters more in the world of arts?
Jim O'Rourke has gone beyond this question. 'Steamroom' is a collection of his solo and experimental works. Most of these are new works that he has recorded and records in Tokyo, Japan, and then releases mainly in digital format via Bandcamp (you can also simply listen to them streaming directly from the site), but among these, there are also some of his older works that have never been released before.
'Steamroom 25', which is the album I'm talking about, is part of this series and was recorded and released last February. It consists of a single 'song' (let's call it that) titled 'It's the Story All Night', which consists of a long session of more than forty minutes of electronic and experimental music.
I know well that a bunch of people do not particularly consider albums like this. From a certain point of view, one might consider it something very self-referential and it's evident that we are not dealing with something that can suit every single moment of the day. But this doesn't mean that this album lacks content. O'Rourke thinks of his compositions in a way that I would define as visual, listening to this fresh session of meditative drone music you become completely immersed in a different context, physically and mentally distant from everything around you. I think of some cinematic episodes like 'Paris, Texas' or 'Apocalypse Now', 'Altered States', but also those that are classics of science fiction like Tarkovsky's 'Solaris' or 'A Space Odyssey'. This album is one of those cases where the music transcends the simple and usually primary purpose of entertainment, instead inviting you to feel and experience emotions on an emotional level.
Can I skip mentioning Lou Reed at this point? I've never practiced yoga or Tai-chi, but I always try to reach some kind of balance in my life, especially in this moment where I spend more time talking to psychiatrists than to anyone else, and I am still convinced that to reach this state, you need to necessarily find some alignment point between your body and your soul. Why did I mention Lou Reed? Lou practiced Tai-chi for years and even dedicated one of his last releases, 'Hudson River Wind Meditations', to it, in which he offered what was music he used during his meditation sessions.
I consider Lou Reed to have been a very complex personality. I've always wondered if at the end of his life he really found a balance or not. I don't know. I'm not even sure that Tai-chi or meditation can help in all cases, but I am convinced that if we discuss the comparison between humanism and technique, it's necessary not to consider these two things separately. You know what I think: try to connect with everything, always try to find the best in everything around you. Well, that's probably the only way to find one's balance.
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