| A CD of spontaneously composed moods and textures performed by an ensemble of expert players and unsurpassed listeners – musicians who value total sound over the riff.. Bill Shoemaker writing for Jazz Times: “Maybe Monday became a force in musique actuelle practically overnight on the basis of a few 1998 gigs that led to this Chicago concert recording. Saturn’s Finger makes it clear that the buzz was not inflated. Between the ever-resourceful Frith and Masaoka there is a formidable arsenal of otherworldly sounds that keep the music moving briskly from one bracing soundscape to the next. It is primarily Ochs who triggers a fluid, vocal element in the mix that prevents industrial toxicity. When the trio opts for delicacy, as it does on Helix, it creates a jarring juxtaposition, like a collage of chrysanthemums in a moon crater. This is a strong debut that will quickly create a clamor for more.”
“This music is delicate and lovely as well as intelligent and cutting edge….. an important record of beautiful and accomplished improvisations.” – Signal to Noise Magazine
This trio of improvisers — Fred Frith on electric guitar, Larry Ochs on tenor and soprano saxophone, and Miya Masaoka on koto and live or triggered samples — play collective, improvised music that has roots in space. Traditional, oriental, and American elements are clearly discernable, but it is mostly the spatial dissonance and free interaction, seemingly without any written notation, that drives the three tracks culled from two live performances in Chicago at the Unity Temple. At nearly 34 minutes, the introductory title track goes through a myriad of changes. Space sounds surround the probing, at times raucous and edgy sax of Ochs. Raked and scraped koto with industrialized percussive jolts and Frith's clangy guitar strums lead to a solo section for Ochs' bleats and boppish runs. Morse code dots and dashes from koto and guitar set up quite a beautiful segment for stringed interaction and sampled wah-wah violin. Frith's tiny, quick notes collapse into clattering, fumbling, purposeful, scattered mood ringing improv in mezzo pianissimo, then dense mezzo forte range and a delicately woven coda. "Helix" has a more tonal guitar and koto springboard from which Ochs rattles off improvs. Sparse strings evoke galactic, quietly intense resonance, and they grow collectively excitable in stretches. "Beyond the Hard Darkness" evokes a suggested waltz tempo for starters; deep blue gothic images inspire a vocal chant, a churning and bubbling of space sounds, and a quiet presence of a juggernaut which rumbles off, fading in the distance. The stark imagery of this music cannot be dismissed, and as creative music, it leaves nothing behind. The audience for these sounds is no doubt specialized and challenged, but those attuned to it will appreciate what these three masters of spontaneity bring to the table. Recommended. — Michael G. Nastos |