In truth this is just prior to the formation of Liquid Liquid, in 1981. Like a no-wave, Saturnian version of Raymond Scott’s big band. The punks at the London Musicians Collective would have loved them.
LI played various NYC lofts and clubs, including Tier 3, Mudd Club and CBGB. Audience members were encouraged to bring their own instruments along. Idiot Orchestra was an offshoot involving more than a dozen players — clarinet, saxophone, trumpet, violin, cello, synth, bass, marimba and drums.
With a fanzine featuring rare photos and a new interview with Richard McGuire.

‘One of the most essential hard bop purchases in the canon. The performances by Duke Pearson — four of his own tunes, five by Byrd, and standards — showcase his improvisational acumen at its height. His soloing on studio records pales in comparison. This was a hot quintet, that not only swung hard, but possessed a deep lyricism and an astonishing sense of timing’ (Allmusic).

Thrilling, angular hard bop, impatiently itching itself open to the new thing.
Dolphy plays b-flat clarinet and alto; Ron Carter plays cello. Booker Ervin is rawly eloquent as per. The seven compositions are all by Waldron, who centres proceedings with inimitable brilliance.
Feelingly recorded by Van Gelder in the summer of 1961, in the same few weeks as Ron Carter’s Where.
In this iteration — all-analogue remastering from the master-tapes, tip-on sleeve, first-class pressing — it’s a must.

‘Verve By Request.’

Thrillingly uncontainable, uproarious, wildly creative music, teeming with passion, protest, sex, orality, dread, blues, and the gospel truth. With Roland Kirk newly enrolled, Mingus passes his bass to Watkins… and it all kicks off. We can’t recommend this record strongly enough. It will do you good.

‘If it is the radical edge of uncompromising hardcore minimalism that you are after, this reissue of Four Organs and Phase Patterns delivers two key examples.
‘‘I am interested in perceptible processes’ Reich had written in 1968. ‘I want to be able to hear the processes happening throughout the sounding music.’ Four Organs is a radical realisation of this goal. Against the steady rattle of maracas, individual tones within a single chord are gradually lengthened. No changes of pitch or timbre occur, and the drawn out nature of the process provoked outrage at some early performances, when audiences found themselves caught up in a decelerating loop, being dragged towards stasis. Phase Patterns, composed a month later, relies on a phasing technique developed during Reich’s earlier experiments with magnetic tape recordings, which he allowed to drift out of sync. Identical figures initially in unison shift out of phase, generating unexpected patterns.’
‘Obviously music should put all within listening range into a state of ecstasy’ (Steve Reich).
Vinyl from Aguirre.

Slower and funkier than the Gary Bartz excursion a few years earlier — with Bad Wilbur Bascomb popping away on electric bass, not Ron Carter — this unmissable 1974 version of Celestial Blues was a game-changing revive in the early nineties, a cosmic crossing of Bill Withers, Sly and Brian Jackson, threading trip hop and Jazz Dance through to Madlib.
‘C’mon meditate! Let’s contemplate!’

The debut LP of David Jahson and Jerry Baxter, from 1978 (featuring the classic, parping Black On Black, from four years earlier).
The CD adds the Love Train album.

Her mid-seventies turn to jazz, bringing in the Drummers of Burundi. Prince loved it.
The LP is newly remastered by Bernie Grundman under the supervision of Joni Mitchell.

Pulling together a couple of Prestige 10”. The twenty-eight-year-old with Horace, Lucky, JJ, and Dave Schildkraut. (You remember Dave.)

The towering jazz landmark originally issued in South Africa in 1974 under the title Mannenberg Is Where It’s Happening. Recorded with Basil Coetzee, Robbie Jansen, Monty Weber and Morris Goldberg, the music protested the evictions underway from District Six, whereby ‘coloureds’ were murderously booted out to Mannenberg township (where Coetzee was from). The LP sold by the thousands within weeks, becoming South Africans’ unofficial national anthem.

“I’d had the experience of playing dance bands, African dance bands like the Tuxedo Slickers, and we played xhosa, American swing music, mbaqanga… I also played with coloured dance bands — waltzes, quick-steps, squares, paso doble, then also the traditional Cape music…”

An upfully ravishing, hypnotically danceable, rootsily syncretic, universal call to resistance.