(Free Improvisation, Noise) Evan Parker / John Wiese - C-Section - 2009, FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless
Треклист:
Evan Parker & John Wiese / C-Section
Жанр: Free Improvisation, Noise
Страна-производитель диска: UK
Год издания: 2009
Издатель (лейбл): Second Layer Records
Номер по каталогу: SLR001
Страна: UK
Аудиокодек: FLAC (*.flac)
Тип рипа: tracks+.cue
Битрейт аудио: lossless
Продолжительность: 45:53
Источник: собственный
Наличие сканов в содержимом раздачи: да
1 The Jist
2 Little Black Book
3 No Shoes
4 Dog Cesarean
Real-time improvisations, to be played at maximum volume.
Recorded at Eastcote Studios, London, UK, May 4th, 2008.
Жанр: Free Improvisation, Noise
Страна-производитель диска: UK
Год издания: 2009
Издатель (лейбл): Second Layer Records
Номер по каталогу: SLR001
Страна: UK
Аудиокодек: FLAC (*.flac)
Тип рипа: tracks+.cue
Битрейт аудио: lossless
Продолжительность: 45:53
Источник: собственный
Наличие сканов в содержимом раздачи: да
1 The Jist
2 Little Black Book
3 No Shoes
4 Dog Cesarean
Real-time improvisations, to be played at maximum volume.
Recorded at Eastcote Studios, London, UK, May 4th, 2008.
Лог создания рипа
Exact Audio Copy V1.0 beta 3 from 29. August 2011
EAC extraction logfile from 10. August 2012, 13:32
Evan Parker/John Wiese / C-Section
Used drive : SlimtypeDVD A DS8A5SH Adapter: 0 ID: 1
Read mode : Secure
Utilize accurate stream : Yes
Defeat audio cache : Yes
Make use of C2 pointers : No
Read offset correction : 6
Overread into Lead-In and Lead-Out : No
Fill up missing offset samples with silence : Yes
Delete leading and trailing silent blocks : No
Null samples used in CRC calculations : Yes
Used interface : Native Win32 interface for Win NT & 2000
Gap handling : Appended to previous track
Used output format : User Defined Encoder
Selected bitrate : 128 kBit/s
Quality : High
Add ID3 tag : No
Command line compressor : C:\Program Files (x86)\Exact Audio Copy\Flac\flac.exe
Additional command line options : -V -8 -T "Genre=%genre%" -T "Artist=%artist%" -T "Title=%title%" -T "Album=%albumtitle%" -T "Date=%year%" -T "Tracknumber=%tracknr%" -T "Comment=%comment%" %source%
TOC of the extracted CD
Track | Start | Length | Start sector | End sector
---------------------------------------------------------
1 | 0:00.00 | 14:32.09 | 0 | 65408
2 | 14:32.09 | 2:18.17 | 65409 | 75775
3 | 16:50.26 | 4:43.66 | 75776 | 97066
4 | 21:34.17 | 24:20.06 | 97067 | 206572
Track 1
Filename D:\Musak 2\Evan Parker\C-Section (2009)\01. The Jist.wav
Pre-gap length 0:00:02.00
Peak level 94.4 %
Extraction speed 2.1 X
Track quality 99.9 %
Test CRC C4A90513
Copy CRC C4A90513
Copy OK
Track 2
Filename D:\Musak 2\Evan Parker\C-Section (2009)\02. Little Black Book.wav
Peak level 94.4 %
Extraction speed 2.0 X
Track quality 100.0 %
Test CRC 56217758
Copy CRC 56217758
Copy OK
Track 3
Filename D:\Musak 2\Evan Parker\C-Section (2009)\03. No Shoes.wav
Peak level 94.4 %
Extraction speed 2.2 X
Track quality 99.9 %
Test CRC 1768311D
Copy CRC 1768311D
Copy OK
Track 4
Filename D:\Musak 2\Evan Parker\C-Section (2009)\04. Dog Cesarean.wav
Peak level 94.4 %
Extraction speed 3.2 X
Track quality 100.0 %
Test CRC 9EC7A176
Copy CRC 9EC7A176
Copy OK
No errors occurred
End of status report
==== Log checksum CF4B8EF47207EC3148E4409D4032781AD9C607B2430C8887C7C0F550DCC2EB74 ====
Содержание индексной карты (.CUE)
REM GENRE Avantgarde
REM DATE 2008
REM DISCID 2B0AC204
REM COMMENT "ExactAudioCopy v1.0b3"
PERFORMER "Evan Parker/John Wiese"
TITLE "C-Section"
FILE "01. The Jist.wav" WAVE
TRACK 01 AUDIO
TITLE "The Jist"
PERFORMER "Evan Parker/John Wiese"
INDEX 01 00:00:00
FILE "02. Little Black Book.wav" WAVE
TRACK 02 AUDIO
TITLE "Little Black Book"
PERFORMER "Evan Parker/John Wiese"
INDEX 01 00:00:00
FILE "03. No Shoes.wav" WAVE
TRACK 03 AUDIO
TITLE "No Shoes"
PERFORMER "Evan Parker/John Wiese"
INDEX 01 00:00:00
FILE "04. Dog Cesarean.wav" WAVE
TRACK 04 AUDIO
TITLE "Dog Cesarean"
PERFORMER "Evan Parker/John Wiese"
INDEX 01 00:00:00
Об альбоме
Have you ever witnessed a Cesarean section? It is not a pleasant experience: as if spending hours with a nurse, pushing and pulling, breathing abnormally and gritting teeth against excruciating pain, sleep deprivation and tubes jammed in veins weren't enough, the mother is put under the gas and sliced open (a scar that will forever ruin bathing suit season). And the result? Well it would be wonderful if you hadn't just seen it ripped out of a bloody stomach and it wasn't kicking, screaming and covered in various filth bearing names such as "meconium" and other words you had previously never heard. (Note: this fatherly observation might be less piercing with the second child.)
Aptly named, this collaboration between Evan Parker and noise-maven John Wiese explores the messy question "what would happen if two of the loudest, most intense heavyweights of their respective genres met?" With Parker on soprano and tenor sax and Wiese on "electronics, tape, (Max) MSP", they give birth to an intense collection of unhinged and mutilated tones, all set on display in a nursery of sonic freaks. Without much formal development or regard for each other's maelstrom, the duo galumphs through four works — two sprawling, two miniscule. Wiese spatially pans skronks, gurgles, blizzards of shards, demolitions, microphone rattles, snippets of yelps, occasional pulses and humming distortion while Parker dances his soprano over the wreckage (though the latter's sound source is most likely the obscured culprit and inspiration for Wiese's mayhem, the relationship isn't apparent). Despite the absence of internal cohesion, the palettes both men smear are terrific and compelling enough to make up for the lack of conversation at this disjuncture. However, when they do come together, the consummation is just as exciting: on "Little Black Book" and "No Shoes", Wiese follows Parker's hyperactive riffs with buzzing feedback then dizzies the tracks with real-time multitracked loops of the sax player's performance. But those seven minutes are fleeting, and a 24-minute closer named "Dog Cesarean" should be a brawl, not a handshake. The duo butt heads in an even more anarchic fashion, Wiese opening up Max folders titled "metallic destruction" to nearly overpower Parker's circular breathing machine. Near the climax, they adopt a completely bi-polar approach, Parker turning soulful as Wiese fires off his biggest artillery. The work hits the pinnacle, and, unable to scale any further, the music implodes and fades into a ghostly reverb tail.
Not simply a frippery of brutality and experimentation for the sake of being loud and obtuse, this epiphanic display by Parker and Wiese is unparalleled — though perhaps not something immediately embraced by fans at the purist end of either camp. To those on the fence, feel free to run, vomit, gasp, but come back, hands over your face with one squinting eye and you will learn to love this exhilarating, sublime, endearing monstrosity.
by Dave Madden
***
Evan Parker and John Wiese share the bill in this masterful collaboration. If you know these gents, you know what this disc sounds like already. But that is no reason not to listen and pay very close attention to these two artists' performances.
Parker could play saxophone better than you any day of the week. Wiese is no slouch either, using electronics and tape manipulation to cut a wide swath of destruction to your ears in the underground. And both are as adept at collaborating with others as they are playing solo. Of course, their instruments of choice sort of spell that out. The free jazz scene is synonymic with improvised collaboration. And electronic/tape manipulation has also been known to provide an industrial ambience to many a musical genre, not just noise. Although you could argue that with recent records between Wiese and the likes of C. Spencer Yeh (Burning Star Core), Yellow Swans, Dead Machines, Wolf Eyes, and his involvement as a member of Sissy Spacek (the band, not the actress), you would think noise is the only sonic force in which he lives. But that's the wonderful thing about collaboration: music can change genres mid-sentence, or mid-sax skronk to be more appropriate. Wiese's slow churning electronic breaths compliment Parker's meandering, rambling loud bursts of energy better than a bass player or drummer ever could in this scenario.
“The Jist” opens with some sparse electronics and even sparser saxophone. They play off each other, building up a nice rhythm without sounding like it. Each one takes the lead at separate moments, but never overshadowing the other and in perfect step to the song. After Parker's melodic run up and down the scale, Wiese comes through with a prolonged jarring noise barrage of broken tapes and a deep thudding bass and they continue until the comedown. The pair sounds almost beautiful in the Terry Riley-inspired “No Shoes”. Parker doesn't seem to breathe throughout the entire near-five-minute track, running up and down, over and under, and all over the saxophone while Wiese delivers electronic scattershot throughout, distorting the pleasant dream-like sax sequence with a nightmarish reality more closely resembling the truth about the music. And, of course, the closer, “Dog Cesarean” is a 24+ minute jam taking the theme of C-Section to its ugliest, noisiest and most free and clean of all.
At times both electronic noise and freeform jazz can sound like a great wall of sound falling on you. This is pure sonic bliss improvised and conjoined for the listener's pleasure. These gentlemen are consummate professionals and wise men in their respective genres and only bring you the finest and most intense-sounding work every second of every song.
By Christopher Sauchak
***
A tremendous release from Second Layer, this disc is a head-to-head between legendary British avant-garde saxophonist Evan Parker and American noisenik John Wiese. The collision of wild, electronic textures and Parker's lung-powered free-improv makes for a pleasingly cogent meeting of different textures, and Wiese's scrabbling, wiry din sounds every bit as spontaneous and agile as Parker's purely organic performances. C-Section is dominated by two lengthy and incredibly busy recordings ('The Jist' and 'Dog Cesarean'), between which shorter, more playful (if that's the right word) tracks are wedged. In addition to being considerably less intense, these comparatively diminutive pieces seem to find Parker's sax undergoing electronic manipulation, spun out into multitracked weirdness during 'No Shoes', while 'Little Black Book' takes on an abrupt, glitchy character. Recommended.
***
Evan Parker is a saxophonic avant-jazz improv legend who's been involved with many amazing collaborations in the past (check out The Topography of the Lungs LP he did with Derek Bailey and Han Bennink) and John Wiese is an experimental noisy fella who also likes to run around collaborating with people. Now they've gone and collaborated together, with the result being an unsurprising result of jazz-noise results. It's an intersection which hasn't been explored anywhere near as fully as it should've been, certainly not since Tzadik's glory days, so it's a welcome (if challenging) listen.. For the most part the the tracks are based around the interplay between the electronic and acoustic sounds but at times it appears as if Wiese is manipulating Parker's sounds, if not he's doing some crazy stunted playing which would have to be heard to be believed. Not the sort of thing that goes down that well on a busy day in our office but I'm gonna have a good listen at home and I'm confident there'll be some real riches to be had! C-Section comes fancily packaged digipak style and is the debut release from Second Layer.
***
In John's own words: "We recorded it together in a studio in London last year when I was over there. It differs from a lot of collaborations that I've done in that I went with Evan's vibe of keeping the integrity of the live take (which I don't necessarily normally do -- I love to edit). The session was two long takes, with two shorter ones of different strategies... I think if you crank it, it sounds pretty unique."
Aptly named, this collaboration between Evan Parker and noise-maven John Wiese explores the messy question "what would happen if two of the loudest, most intense heavyweights of their respective genres met?" With Parker on soprano and tenor sax and Wiese on "electronics, tape, (Max) MSP", they give birth to an intense collection of unhinged and mutilated tones, all set on display in a nursery of sonic freaks. Without much formal development or regard for each other's maelstrom, the duo galumphs through four works — two sprawling, two miniscule. Wiese spatially pans skronks, gurgles, blizzards of shards, demolitions, microphone rattles, snippets of yelps, occasional pulses and humming distortion while Parker dances his soprano over the wreckage (though the latter's sound source is most likely the obscured culprit and inspiration for Wiese's mayhem, the relationship isn't apparent). Despite the absence of internal cohesion, the palettes both men smear are terrific and compelling enough to make up for the lack of conversation at this disjuncture. However, when they do come together, the consummation is just as exciting: on "Little Black Book" and "No Shoes", Wiese follows Parker's hyperactive riffs with buzzing feedback then dizzies the tracks with real-time multitracked loops of the sax player's performance. But those seven minutes are fleeting, and a 24-minute closer named "Dog Cesarean" should be a brawl, not a handshake. The duo butt heads in an even more anarchic fashion, Wiese opening up Max folders titled "metallic destruction" to nearly overpower Parker's circular breathing machine. Near the climax, they adopt a completely bi-polar approach, Parker turning soulful as Wiese fires off his biggest artillery. The work hits the pinnacle, and, unable to scale any further, the music implodes and fades into a ghostly reverb tail.
Not simply a frippery of brutality and experimentation for the sake of being loud and obtuse, this epiphanic display by Parker and Wiese is unparalleled — though perhaps not something immediately embraced by fans at the purist end of either camp. To those on the fence, feel free to run, vomit, gasp, but come back, hands over your face with one squinting eye and you will learn to love this exhilarating, sublime, endearing monstrosity.
by Dave Madden
***
Evan Parker and John Wiese share the bill in this masterful collaboration. If you know these gents, you know what this disc sounds like already. But that is no reason not to listen and pay very close attention to these two artists' performances.
Parker could play saxophone better than you any day of the week. Wiese is no slouch either, using electronics and tape manipulation to cut a wide swath of destruction to your ears in the underground. And both are as adept at collaborating with others as they are playing solo. Of course, their instruments of choice sort of spell that out. The free jazz scene is synonymic with improvised collaboration. And electronic/tape manipulation has also been known to provide an industrial ambience to many a musical genre, not just noise. Although you could argue that with recent records between Wiese and the likes of C. Spencer Yeh (Burning Star Core), Yellow Swans, Dead Machines, Wolf Eyes, and his involvement as a member of Sissy Spacek (the band, not the actress), you would think noise is the only sonic force in which he lives. But that's the wonderful thing about collaboration: music can change genres mid-sentence, or mid-sax skronk to be more appropriate. Wiese's slow churning electronic breaths compliment Parker's meandering, rambling loud bursts of energy better than a bass player or drummer ever could in this scenario.
“The Jist” opens with some sparse electronics and even sparser saxophone. They play off each other, building up a nice rhythm without sounding like it. Each one takes the lead at separate moments, but never overshadowing the other and in perfect step to the song. After Parker's melodic run up and down the scale, Wiese comes through with a prolonged jarring noise barrage of broken tapes and a deep thudding bass and they continue until the comedown. The pair sounds almost beautiful in the Terry Riley-inspired “No Shoes”. Parker doesn't seem to breathe throughout the entire near-five-minute track, running up and down, over and under, and all over the saxophone while Wiese delivers electronic scattershot throughout, distorting the pleasant dream-like sax sequence with a nightmarish reality more closely resembling the truth about the music. And, of course, the closer, “Dog Cesarean” is a 24+ minute jam taking the theme of C-Section to its ugliest, noisiest and most free and clean of all.
At times both electronic noise and freeform jazz can sound like a great wall of sound falling on you. This is pure sonic bliss improvised and conjoined for the listener's pleasure. These gentlemen are consummate professionals and wise men in their respective genres and only bring you the finest and most intense-sounding work every second of every song.
By Christopher Sauchak
***
A tremendous release from Second Layer, this disc is a head-to-head between legendary British avant-garde saxophonist Evan Parker and American noisenik John Wiese. The collision of wild, electronic textures and Parker's lung-powered free-improv makes for a pleasingly cogent meeting of different textures, and Wiese's scrabbling, wiry din sounds every bit as spontaneous and agile as Parker's purely organic performances. C-Section is dominated by two lengthy and incredibly busy recordings ('The Jist' and 'Dog Cesarean'), between which shorter, more playful (if that's the right word) tracks are wedged. In addition to being considerably less intense, these comparatively diminutive pieces seem to find Parker's sax undergoing electronic manipulation, spun out into multitracked weirdness during 'No Shoes', while 'Little Black Book' takes on an abrupt, glitchy character. Recommended.
***
Evan Parker is a saxophonic avant-jazz improv legend who's been involved with many amazing collaborations in the past (check out The Topography of the Lungs LP he did with Derek Bailey and Han Bennink) and John Wiese is an experimental noisy fella who also likes to run around collaborating with people. Now they've gone and collaborated together, with the result being an unsurprising result of jazz-noise results. It's an intersection which hasn't been explored anywhere near as fully as it should've been, certainly not since Tzadik's glory days, so it's a welcome (if challenging) listen.. For the most part the the tracks are based around the interplay between the electronic and acoustic sounds but at times it appears as if Wiese is manipulating Parker's sounds, if not he's doing some crazy stunted playing which would have to be heard to be believed. Not the sort of thing that goes down that well on a busy day in our office but I'm gonna have a good listen at home and I'm confident there'll be some real riches to be had! C-Section comes fancily packaged digipak style and is the debut release from Second Layer.
***
In John's own words: "We recorded it together in a studio in London last year when I was over there. It differs from a lot of collaborations that I've done in that I went with Evan's vibe of keeping the integrity of the live take (which I don't necessarily normally do -- I love to edit). The session was two long takes, with two shorter ones of different strategies... I think if you crank it, it sounds pretty unique."
Состав
Evan Parker - Tenor/Soprano Saxophone
John Wiese - Electronics, Tape, MSP
John Wiese - Electronics, Tape, MSP