I was having a little trouble concentrating at work yesterday afternoon, so I got my listening equipment ready and declared that the task at hand required some “squeaky music.” A co-worker raised an eyebrow, so I proceeded to unplug my earbuds for a few seconds to give him a listen. After about 10 seconds of quivering electric guitar torture set against some angry saxophone squall, he turned to me and said “Why…would you put yourself through that?”
It’s a good question, I suppose, though it seems likely I’ll never arrive at a reason that’s concrete enough to satisfy the exasperation. I mean, I do love how Zorn and Moore listen to each other. On “Jazz Laundromat,” the process results in textures that produce so much tension it can make a person feel almost itchy with nervous excitement. I don’t know what I like better, the shriek of Zorn’s sax hurled against Moore’s barely-controlled feedback, or the industrial moan that develops as Zorn floats some low tones over Moore’s growling, razor wire rumbles.
[amazon_enhanced asin=”B00F21AL2O” container=”B00136LTXM” container_class=”” price=”All” background_color=”FFFFFF” link_color=”000000″ text_color=”0000FF” /] [amazon_enhanced asin=”B00E4V0C7C” container=”B00136LTXM” container_class=”” price=”All” background_color=”FFFFFF” link_color=”000000″ text_color=”0000FF” /]
Latest posts by Mark Saleski (see all)
- Eric Clapton’s Me and Mr. Johnson made the case for British blues - March 23, 2015
- Bruce Springsteen’s Working On A Dream remains deeply misunderstood - January 27, 2015
- Adrian Belew’s brilliant Side One was a journey through his entire musical history - January 25, 2015