Volume Two - The Soft Machine

Volume Two (Soft Machine, 1969)

Rivmic Melodies

1. Pataphysical Introduction, Pt. 1 - 1:00

2. A Concise British Alphabet, Pt. 1 - 0:09

3. Hibou, Anemone and Bear - 5:59

4. A Concise British Alphabet, Pt. 2 - 0:12

5. Hulloder - 0:54

6. Data Was Here - 3:25

7. Thank You Pierrot Lunaire - 0:48

8. Have You Ever Bean Green? - 1:19

9. Pataphysical Introduction, Pt. 2 - 0:51

10. Out of Tunes - 2:34

Esther's Nose Job

11. As Long as He Lies Perfectly Still - 2:34

12. Dedicated to You But You Weren't Listening - 2:32

13. Fire Engine Passing With Bells Clanging - 1:51

14. Pig - 2:09

15. Orange Skin Food - 1:47

16. A Door Opens and Closes - 1:09

17. 10:30 Returns to the Bedroom - 4:13

Volume Two combines the best of both worlds: playful vocals mix freely with more advanced compositional structures, bridging the gap between the debut album and the heavy instrumental work of Third. As a vocalist and lyricist, Robert Wyatt is in full flower, and as a band (including a fledgling horn section), Soft Machine are confidently exploring alternate time signatures and complex, long-form song suites.

"Rivmic Melodies" is a mock-performance of the Official Orchestra of the College of Pataphysics, bookended by fake emcee announcements from Wyatt ("it is our great pleasure, and indeed we hope yours..."). Musically, the suite alternates between mellow, piano-based vocal pieces and bracing instrumentals. The horn section makes a full appearance on "Hibou, Anemone and Bear", which also includes a face-melting organ solo over a 7/8 fuzz bass riff and some furious drumming. Other highlights include the overdubbed harmony singing on "Hulloder," the Spanish vocals in "Dada Was Here," and the ending 5/8 cacophony of "Out of Tunes," prefaced by Wyatt's winking assurance, "Here's a few fives to take away the taste of all those sevens..." There's even a fun interchange with the audience (a pataphysical rumination, if you will) in "Thank You, Pierrot Lunaire":

In his organ solos, he fills 'round the keyboards

Knowing he must find the nicest notes for you to hear

And when I know that he's found them

I feel so good... but I still can't see

Why people listen, instead of doing it themselves

The second half of the album isn't as unified as the first. Really, the first two tracks are separate songs, and the last five are "Esther's Nose Job" proper. "As Long As..." is an ode to original bass player Kevin Ayers, and as such it recycles some of the lyrics he penned for the first album. Likable but inessential. "Dedicated to You...", on the other hand, is an interesting direction the band could have explored further. The only instruments are acoustic guitar and muted harpsichord, providing elegant backing to an oblique but charming melody sung by Wyatt. The words are absolutely great, a stream-of-consciousness meditation on parabolas, geophysics, universal Maximilian (?), and eight rare cases of chicken pox.

"Esther's Nose Job" itself is a mostly instrumental suite that delves deeper into the jazz that would make up Third. Wyatt's vocals help to humanize this foray into instrumental greatness. There is one song with words implanted in the middle: "Pig" is a swinging sixties take on the carpe diem poetic tradition (a.k.a., time is short and we're young, so why won't you sleep with me?). I like to think it's called "Pig" for a reason, though undoubtedly these guys subscribed to that philosophy. It is still a fun song, with a light melody dancing above a frantic, infectious 7/8 backing.

Though the band would reach greater musical heights in Third, nowhere would they equal the humor and vocal playfulness found here. For me, this is their best album.

Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 fives to take away the taste of all those sevens

The Soft Machine

The Soft Machine (1968)

1. Hope for Happiness - 4:22

2. Joy of a Toy - 2:49

3. Hope for Happiness (Reprise) - 1:39

4. Why Am I So Short? - 1:37

5. So Boot If At All - 7:24

6. A Certain Kind - 4:14

7. Save Yourself - 2:25

8. Priscilla - 1:03

9. Lullabye Letter - 4:42

10. We Did It Again - 3:46

11. Plus Belle Qu'une Poubelle - 1:00

12. Why Are We Sleeping? - 5:31

13. Box 25/4 Lid - 0:53

Soft Machine's first album is very much a product of its time. They were a young, hip band trying really hard to be hip and young. Despite that, some worthwhile music and humor peek through.

The album is strongest where it mixes experiment with fun-loving good nature. "Hope for Happiness" exemplifies this as a song with an invisible melody: it's there, but Robert Wyatt refuses to sing it. Instead, he sings every other part he can think of, overdubbing harmonies, descants, and his version of soulful backing vocals, while conscientiously avoiding a direct statement of the melody. Add to that an up-tempo organ solo and a nice scat section, and we've got ourselves a fine little experimental tune.

For pure fun, "Why Am I So Short?" delivers. Wyatt's lyrics are gleefully self-absorbed, and shall speak for themselves:

I've got a drum kit and some sticks

So when I'm drunk or in a fix

I find it easy to express myself

I hit the drums so hard I break all their heads

And then I end the day in one of my beds

I'm nearly five foot seven tall

I like to smoke and drink and bawl

I've got a yellow suit that's made by Pam

And every day I like an egg and some tea

But most of all I like to talk about me!

This transitions into "So Boot If At All," which starts as a promising instrumental workout but devolves into a noisy drum solo, punctuated by random piano and atonal bass guitar "events". Thankfully, the first half ends on a high note with the grand, classically tinged "A Certain Kind," which is also a heartfelt love song.

The second half is an equally mixed bag. For every neat jazz-influenced song like "Priscilla" or "Lullabye Letter", there is a somewhat unsuccessful experiment like the repetitive "We Did It Again" or the mock-pretentious "Why Are We Sleeping?". On the whole, the album does have a lot of good music to offer, and it points the way toward greater things to come.

Arbitrary Rating: 4 out of 5 eggs and some tea

The Whisperer in Darkness - H. P. Lovecraft

The Whisperer In Darkness: Collected Stories, Volume One (H. P. Lovecraft, 1919 - 1941)

Howard Phillips Lovecraft is a bridge between Edgar Allen Poe and modern horror literature. His writing might not be of the strongest quality, but there is a black poetry to it in places, and the stories themselves are imaginative and gripping. This collection brings together semi-related stories that find their horror in an infinite and uncaring universe that threatens mankind's existence and sanity.

Most of the stories involve ancient, pre-human civilizations from Earth's forgotten aeons. They could be considered science fiction, some to a greater degree than others. The collection includes four early short stories, plus five meatier offerings. Here's a taste of the treats to be found within:

"The Hound": Grave robbers steal a cursed amulet and are pursued by a grotesque fate.

"The Call of Cthulhu": Several unrelated people experience the same lucid dream, while a murderous cult increases its activity, worshipping an ancient idol depicting the creature in the dreams.

"The Dunwich Horror": In rural New England, several unexplained deaths and wholesale destruction of the landscape leads to helpless, claustrophobic panic.

The novella "The Whisperer in Darkness" is perhaps the most successful story, both as horror and as science fiction. An academic exchanges several letters with a paranoid loner from the hills of New England about folkloric monsters. The loner claims the stories are true: the monsters are actually aliens, and he thinks they are after him. The action takes place mostly through the mail, but the constricting sense of an inescapable trap never relents. Don't read this one alone, late at night...

The last novella in the collection, "At the Mountains of Madness," illustrates both Lovecraft's strengths and his weaknesses. It's another suspenseful story -- for the first half. An expedition to Antarctica unearths ancient things and unleashes violence. Unfortunately, the second half is almost an anthropological tract. Two of the explorers find an ancient city covered in hieroglyphic-like historical records and recount what they think happened in the place. It eventually picks back up at the end, but there's a lot of filler, imaginative though it may be.

I would recommend Lovecraft for fans of Poe, Conan Doyle, Stephen King, or the X-Files. If you can excuse the occasional digression into imaginary pasts, there are some great horrors to be found.

Arbitrary Rating: 4 out of 5 ancient evils

Third - Soft Machine

Third (Soft Machine, 1970)

1. Facelift (Live) - 18:54

2. Slightly All the Time - 18:14

3. Moon in June - 19:18

4. Out-Bloody-Rageous - 19:11

This album is a behemoth of jazz-influenced experimental rock. It takes a lot of listens to get into it (unfortunately), but once the intrepid listener is in, there is a richly bizarre world to explore.

Facelift is an aggressive sax-driven track. It starts in anarchy with distorted keyboards, bass drones, and two saxophones flickering in and out of the sonic palette. The miasma coalesces into a vaguely menacing melody before bursting forth in full flame, with Elton Dean and Lyn Dobson's saxes burning through the danceable jazz vocabulary with infectious abandon. Hugh Hopper's bass and Robert Wyatt's drums keep things moving, even during the mysterious middle part where Dobson trades his sax for a flute. The song has good melodies, creative structuring, and rock viscera spread all over the place.

Slightly All the Time is a very good composed piece. It goes through four or five different sections, each flowing well into the other despite different time signatures (11/8 to 9/8 to 4/4). The chord progressions make for some excellent solos from Mike Ratledge on keyboard and Elton Dean on sax. At times the melodies trip lightly over nimble bass lines and drum patterns, while at other times the beat is more insistent. There is a great dreamy section in the middle where the sax floats over a sea of organ, bass, and relaxed hi-hat, lulling the listener into pleasant quietude before picking back up into a fast swing. This song has accomplished musicianship mixed with the occasional dip into pure rock fun.

Moon in June was initially my favorite tune on the album, and it's easily the most accessible. The first 9 minutes have vocals! Shocking! Robert Wyatt's whimsical lyrics deal with relationships, homesickness, and the purpose of music, mixing British wit and Dadaist stream of consciousness rambling ("Ah, but I miss the rain, ticky tacky ticky..."). The most striking part for me about the vocal section is the plethora of melodies. There's not really a verse/chorus structure, just engaging melody after engaging melody. Yummy! The playful vocal portion merges seamlessly into a bracing 12/8 jam with a searing organ solo, fierce distorted bass backing, and some tasty scat vocals. It all builds to a glorious, cathartic climax - and then there are five more minutes. The piece decays slowly, with lots of weird tape effects and creepy studio manipulation, topped off by a deranged violin solo. Wyatt's wordless vocals seep through occasionally like light from dying embers. It's madness, but it's delicious madness.

Out-Bloody-Rageous tops it all off with a summation of the disparate elements of the album. It starts and ends as a solo keyboard piece with lots of looping effects and ambient, experimental techniques. Sandwiched in the middle is another spritely jazz workout with saxophone taking the lead, this time in (be still my heart) 15/8. It's just a pleasure to hear musicians testing their limits--and perhaps holding on by the seat of their pants--as they journey through another session of instrumental creativity and bliss.

Overall, this is a very good album, definitely more jazz than rock. More vocals would have been nice, but the instruments carry a lot of melody. The recording quality isn't the best either, but that's the way it goes sometimes...

Arbitrary rating: 5 out of 5 ticky tacky ticky

A Voyage to Arcturus - David Lindsay

A Voyage to Arcturus (David Lindsay, 1920)

I first heard about this book when reading a collection of essays on science fiction by C.S. Lewis. He consistently praised it as a work of imagination and depth, despite certain flaws as a novel and a work of prose. He's spot on in identifying the flaws. The first few chapters are very earthbound, and I was almost discouraged from continuing.

After we leave Earth behind, though, we enter the realm of pure allegory: not literal allegory like "Mercy and Hope traveled to the Sinless City," but imagistic, gut emotion allegory. I'm not even sure if Lindsey knew exactly what he was going for with every character and every scene, but the novel is a vast, poetic landscape where imagination runs amok. Life is short, grand, beautiful, brutish, unnatural, supernatural, and ever-changing.

Maskull, the main character, is a jaded, pessimistic man who is tired of the falsity and spiritual compromise that is life. He meets two other men, Krag and Nightspore, at a bizarre seance, where Krag tells Maskull he has found a way to travel to a planet where Maskull can have fresh experiences and meet new creatures. Maskull takes the bait, and on the planet Tormance he begins a journey that takes him through love, lust, fear, guilt, compassion, rage, learning, asceticism, and an awful lot of senseless death. His journey soon takes shape and purpose: he keeps hearing about a person called Surtur, who is supposedly the creator of this world. Surtur has many other names: Shaping, Crystalman, Muspel. Some people praise him as a benevolent deity, others fear him as a devil. Some ignore him and live their lives, while others spend their whole life in pursuit of him. Curiousity about this person drives Maskull across the planet. Every time he thinks he's closer to an answer, though, he realizes he has just found another unreality, another lie, another deception. No system, society, idea, or experience seems to tell the whole truth.

Ultimately his blind quest asks more questions than it answers, mostly about the nature of God, reality, and the soul. It's definitely a sweeping journey, though. There are regions of tranquil peace, where water is pure and substantial, taking the place of all food. There are regions of freakish danger, where mountains and abysses appear out of nowhere, destroying any creature that happens to be in their path. An island contains a natural musical instrument, but the music is violent and deadly to the people who are drawn to hear it. People grow and discard limbs, eyes, even senses, with each addition or subtraction changing their perception of the world. At times the imaginative reach of the novel defies the reader's ability to conceptualize: he tries to describe new primary colors, sounds, even a third gender. It's definitely a wild read, and it covers a lot of imaginative and philosophic ground.

Arbitrary Rating: 4.5 out of 5 alien suns