Peter Brötzmann-tenor saxophone, alto sax, b-clarinet, tarogato Recorded live Octoat Blue City, Osaka, Japan Peter Brötzmann-tarogato, alto- & tenor saxophone, B-flat clarinet LP reissue: Cien Fuegos (CF018) 2017 (limited edition of 500)ģ LP Box reissue: Cien Fuegos (FMP-Box) 2017 (limited edition of 300) LP reissue: Cien Fuegos (CF017) 2017 (limited edition of 500) Sex Tape Explosive new full-length live album from BRTZMANN/LEIGH, the duo of Peter Brtzmann (tenor, alto-saxophones, tarogato, b-flat clarinet) and Heather Leigh (pedal steel guitar) recorded at the legendary WELS festival in November 2016 and released in May 2017, exactly two years after the duo began their on-going collaboration in. LP reissue: Cien Fuegos (CF016) 2017 (limited edition of 500) Sex Tape by BRTZMANN / LEIGH, released 1. Peter Brötzmann-tenor saxophone Albert Mangelsdorff-trombone, voice Fred Van Hove-upright piano Han Bennink-drums, khene, vibraphone, kaffir-piano, dhung, dung-dkar, gachi, oe-oe, elong, home-made junk, voice, tins
#PETER BROTZMANN SEX TAPE PLUS#
Recorded live at Music Unlimited, Wels, November 13, 2016īrötzmann/Van Hove/Bennink plus Albert Mangelsdorff Peter Brötzmann-alto saxophone, tarogato, B-flat clarinet Recorded live at Sowieso, Berlin, J(1+2) & J(3-7). Harri Sjöström-soprano saxophone (track 1+2) Guy Bettini-trumpet, fluegelhorn Luca Pissavini-double bass Recorded live October 24, 2016, Levontin 7, Tel Aviv, Israel And check out Heather Leigh’s stunning 2014 album I Abused Animal to hear her haunting singing.Peter Brötzmann-reeds Steve Swell-trombone Paal Nilssen-Love-drums But for those with the nerve, an incredibly moving, personal and unforgettable aural experience unfolds in one single uninterrupted 40-minute take.Ĭredit to Common Room for consistently taking on challenging performances like this – it’s uncommon. When I saw Brötzmann in ’85, about a third of the audience left. Some audience members just couldn’t do it and fled to the garden bar. Launching straight into the set without a single word of introduction, feels like an assault, or maybe a burning away of something. Both artists exploit texture and conflict over melody and harmony as a means to access listeners’ imaginations. She generates arrhythmic waves of rising and falling tones with insistent and anxious pressure, a dark country through which Brötzmann’s desperate and agonised sax scrabbles and bellows. She plays the instrument as far removed from its customary sound as Brötzmann’s sax is from Kenny G’s. And certainly, he was a part of a revolution in German music, along with rock bands like Neu!, Faust, and Can that needed to reboot things from first principles, to “rip it up and start again” in order to avoid the influence of Germany’s established, and so at best ignorant, at worst complicit, cultural constructions.īrötzmann’s collaborator for this tour, American-born Heather Leigh, plays pedal steel guitar but if that’s putting you in mind of Ry Cooder, think again. “In those days we felt the burden of German history very heavily,” he said. And, of course now I understand, that to describe any creative act by an undoubtedly politically-conscious German artist as an aggressive act is to touch on acute sensitivities. And he nodded thoughtfully, not remembering me at all. So, anyway, last Thursday night I felt compelled to remind him of our exchange 32 years previous. I went out the next day and bought Brötzmann’s 1968 album Machine Gun. I told myself that it was a good lesson in not assuming the obvious about art. I couldn’t understand how I’d managed to get it so wrong. It is not aggressive!”, he barked back with indignation. So excited was I then by the hurricane-like power and atonal audacity of the set he’d just played with bassist Peter Kowald, that I felt compelled to approach him and congratulate him on the “aggressiveness” of his music. The first was in 1985 at Downstage in Wellington when I was 19. Unlikely as it seems to me right now, this is already the second time I’ve stood at a bar and spoken with this German ‘free jazz’ legend. There’s a ferocious, urgent intensity to his music that begs the question of how he can summon up a catharsis-to-order, night after night on tour, not to mention over the course of a career marked be restless experimentation and ceaseless collaboration reaching back to the late 1960s. I stood at Common Room’s bar and spoke with Peter Brötzmann after what must have been a draining performance for the 76-year-old saxophonist, and not just because of his age.
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