Die Like a Dog Quartet – From Valley to Valley

Overall rating: 9 (out of 10) Label: Eremite

For those unfamiliar with Brotzmann, wow. How did you stumble upon this? What can I say to prepare you for the sonic assault? I actually was introduced to the man after hearing his son’s group, the Caspar Brotzmann Massaker, some of the finest German metal one is likely to hear this side of Einsturzende Neubauten (who may fall more properly into the industrial/noise category, i guess). When I found out that Caspar’s dad was a musician too, I was ridiculed, and rightly so. Peter Brotzmann’s album Machine Gun is one of the angriest, full-on sonic assaults ever recorded, and makes most metal/industrial/noise sound limp. Simply put, the man is a monster. Known for his blustering saxophone and utter devotion to free music, Brotzmann has released a slew of recordings beginning in the late 1960’s.

The Die Like a Dog Quartet is Brotzmann’s “tribute group” to Albert Ayler. Not “tribute” as in covering his tunes (e.g. Dread Zeppelin, Dark Star Orchestra), but rather guided by the spiritual energy and musical legacy of Ayler. In this particular incarnation of the group, often underrated/overlooked trumpeter Roy Campbell replaces regular Toshinori Kondo. The result is three incredible tracks, recorded live at the 1998 Fire in the Valley festival.

As you may have noticed, this group features the rhythm section of William Parker on bass and Hamid Drake on the drums. While both are legends in creative improvised music with discographies stretching back into the early 70’s, I believe this is one of their earliest recordings together. Campbell and Parker, both downtown NYC veterans, have played together in numerous groups and incarnations. These three musicians provide a wonderful backdrop and counterbalance for Brotzmann.

I described Brotzmann’s sax as blustering above, and that is a bit misleading. It is roaring, noisy, loud and full of bombast and even raging violence at times (again, the uninitiated really ought to check out the landmark Machine Gun recording), but there is none of the emptiness associated with the word. Brotzmann is not all roaring, blaring skronk, and his output, particularly in the last two decades, has also showcased a quieter, more sensitive side to his playing. This performance showcases both sides of the man, as his horn emits angry shouts followed by plaintive, moving cries.

The group moves together – while there are solos, it’s not anywhere near the stereotypical jazz performance where each of the musicians take turns showcasing/showboating/wanking around. Rather, the solos feel organic – the musicians are listening to each other and playing together, and choices to add to the chaos, bring back a rhythm or sit out a moment seem unconscious and entirely in the moment. The first piece runs 16:40, and the second runs 40:02. The third is a ten-minute encore. All three are filled with beauty, sadness, moments of rage and exclamations of joy. This is a welcome addition to each man’s already massive discographies, and I’m shocked to find that it’s still in print. Grab it while you can.