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Rating: This time, like a sly fox, I hit seven birds with one stone.
The story of the 10-inch records from Cold Blue Records dates back more than thirty years ago when I desperately roamed in search of these vinyls, and yet... not even a shadow of them. Armed with Californian P.O. BOX addresses, I would mail my paper letters, hoping for the affirmative return message "in the bottle": available. Nothing to be done... I even had phone numbers, but in the event of an overseas call, one had to foresee a permanent indebtedness. There was no internet, no cell phones, yet there were record stores where you could find an island. I had all the records from the Californian trance scene, I don’t even know how I managed to acquire them, some I believe I constructed psychically. But not these, not even one, and I suffered reading the presentation in the booklet in Italian of the fundamental compilation Viva Los Angeles of 1986 published by a Roman label, Viva Records. It was only talked about, there were no tracks on the record, and it was discussed as things at the border of acoustic reportage but with a concrete impact. And this intrigued me greatly given my irredeemable idiosyncrasy to melody and "rational" constructions.
In 2003 they reissued all seven in a three-CD box set... The old Chas Smith label, resurrected like a phoenix after 15 years, exhumed the improbable. My immediate genuflected thanks to fate.
The works reflect a love for music that manifests flashes of touching purity. The dedication to experimentation never just for its own sake comforts us with its progression. And these are not vacation trinkets; there beats a soul for things unseen yet existent. Let's begin...
1) Peter Garland "Matachin Dances" (1980-81)
An unknown folk loaded with History that passes through an alienating violin presents itself before us with Peter Garland. The maracas, similar to the rattle of a rattlesnake, give that hypnotic touch of the past. The "dances" open melancholic yet evocative, numbered from one to six, an intimate meeting that bestows a distant freshness.
2) Michael Jon Fink in "Vocalise" (1977-79) serves us a drift at the piano with shadows of the new world. It seems that the hand falls asleep on the instrument and by inertia lightly rebounds. Gently touched keys, evanescence, an oneiric recovery of airs from other places, a veil of intimacy cradles you... A cello appears and a lucid sadness pervades the environment. Two pianos play the final suite suspending the associations. There's no hurry, they could continue infinitely, we would like...
3) Barney Childs in his "Clay Music" (1981) through a material use of wind instruments, sketches a visualization of a jungle that includes past and future, resulting suspended on an impassive and alien earthly air. The 19-minute suite, originally spread over the two sides of the vinyl, mocks you with a Marameo! at every corner turn, playfully yet fiercely in the surprise provoked. Labyrinthine...
4) A composition per side for Read Miller in "Mile Zero Hotel" (1981) which extreme verbal communication on the first side where three voices, two male and one female, pursue, intertwine, get confused, monotonously confess the lies they live, appearing and disappearing in search of a centering that can subtract the subtle anguish that consumes us. The words transform into a hypnotic instrument that no longer has to do with the rational. A monologue, the second track creates an alienating atmosphere but without fears for the acceptance of rejection to deception, there is no outrage, there are no more feelings. Observing the state of things from another Universe. Redemption...
5) In "Santa Fe" (1982) Chas Smith redefines the concept of ambient by scraping it off the relaxed listening and inviting us to the bright company of the breath of stagecoach shadows in the dust. A western vein touches the airs, saloon ghosts flicker in transcendental canyons, stars arpeggio in the cold desert night. We disappear willingly, happy...
6) "These Things Stop Breathing" (1981) by Rick Cox is anaerobic in its carpet-like proceeding. A prepared guitar does not delude us with induced normality, the torment is bare, we do not drag ourselves into self-pity. A plateau of mirrors is impersonally exposed, leaving the choice to us to align our insanities. The friction of the clarinet with the invisible evokes distant specters, actors of an art brut film. The energy load of the piece "Taken From Real Life" gives the idea of a lucid hallucination where we have no frills to cling to. "Horror Vacui Aenima"...
7) Fractions, fragments of Sphinxes, whispers of Sirens, inner peace, distant tales. Daniel Lentz urges ancestral progressions in his "After Images" (1977-80) projecting us into a holiday for the soul. Deep playthings...
The purity of these works demands a lucid listening effort. Take advantage of the transcendental offer: "One CD 3 euros, three CDs 10 euros... Seven without take away! ... me cojoni."
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