Thursday, 29 May 2008

Rhys Chatham - Factor X

Moers Music 02008CD. 1983


So. Mr Chatham. Another FK introduction, at the same time as Glen Branca. I have a few problems with a lot of contemporary composition. I often feel it's for people that want to be composers or musicians but can't actually play or write. I was at a recital in Newcastle University a couple of years ago - I can't remember what the occasion was, or who the performers were. Mostly it consisted of a guy hitting the same note repeatedly on a grand piano, someone making clicking sounds with an electronic box of some sort, and a turntablist. Now that I really hate. DJs who can fuck shit up and do crazy things, create great mixes - fine with that. The turntable as a serious instrument - fuck off. This guy was studying contemporary composition, and his instrument was his SL1210. Come on. We all did that 25 years ago. I remember one of my Sex For Ollie cassette releases had a track on it that was individually overdubbed for every copy. 50% of the sound on each version of that track was created live while dubbing the cassette, mostly through a 4-channel mixer using a turntable with various bits and pieces (sandpaper, tin can lids, fluff, sometimes even a [gasp] record), along with mics picking up the gurling of a water tank, cars outside, me, whatever. And lots of smashing glass. I liked smashing glass a lot. My point is, I didn't call the turntable an instrument. It was a tool. I wouldn't have expected a degree in what I was doing. I digress....

I actually respect Chatham's composing ability. He is a musician. He can write musical score. I just find some of his more experimental (I suppose it was in the early 80's) work a bit dull, sometimes contrived to be difficult, or just plain annoying (first track on here, For Brass, being a case in point).

Cadenza, the last track, is a nice piece for 5 guitars and drums which works well for my ears. A development of an earlier piece, Guitar Trio, which I have somewhere.

It has it's place, and will stay there for lengthy periods, being dusted off only briefly in a moment of madness.

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