Most Materiall

by Thom JurekThis is matchless all right. There is almost nothing in the way of language a review of these astonishing recordings can say. It is easier to talk about them then to reveal what they are about musically or esthetically. Master percussionist Eddie Prevost -- who regards bowing strange things on metal objects percussion as well as drums, and right he is -- and saxophonist Evan Parker have recorded a double CD of duets that is so invigorating, confounding, and hysterically beautiful, no one could blame either man if he gave it up right now. There are nine selections between the two discs, ranging in time from nine and a half minutes to over half an hour. All of the titles are quotations from Francis Bacon, who would have been proud to have his spirit evoked during them. This isn't simply improvisation; this is investigation in the same way that Charles Olson's Maximus poems were investigations, in the same way that Pico Iyer and Bruce Chatwin's journeys were investigations, and in the same way that Stockhausen's Hymnen is an investigation. These pieces go after the rooted heart of sound itself, the veiled face of that magical echo that dwells inside and outside of everything, in order to find out how it spells its name and how it decides which hearty to beat. There are flurries and drones and conflicts and resolutions and downright mystical moments of pure Blakean illumination. This is music that's about so much more than music that it cannot be addressed in merely musical terms. This is the very case in point of Henry James' definition of art: this is the "thing that can never be repeated."