Piano In The Rain
Limpe Fuchs - octogenarian pioneer of free improvised music, one half of Anima, and prolific soloist in her own right, is here captured on this intimate 40 minute recording improvising on the piano at Mark Fell's gaff in Yorkshire, the windows and doors wide open to capture the sound of rain outside.
Mark Fell’s gonzoid recordings of Limpe Fuchs, a longtime pal and inspiration, ribbons beautiful and curiously bluesy-jazz rhythmelodies on the Fell household. Actively playing and making music since the late ‘60s, Limpe brings an enormous depth and breadth of experience to contemporary music’s peripheries, in between avant garde, improvisation, free-jazz and krautrock. Captured ad hoc, the 42 minute recording is presented with no overdubs or edits, just a well placed mic soaking up the downpour and Limpe’s gorgeous stream of thought that appears to riff with the rain.
The downpour only grows in intensity as it goes on, to the point later on where she breaks from the keyboard to just revel in the sound of it, returning reinvigorated and adding voice to her jaunty, broken rhythms in the final quarter. From start to finish, it’s a proper pleasure to follow her turns of phrase as the notes flow as easily as the rain. In the process we’re variously reminded to the most joyous works of Emahoy Tsegue Mariam Gebru, the captivating qualities of Anne Tardos’ domestic works or Charlie Morrow actions for New Wilderness Audiographics, and perhaps most pertinently, those parts of Mark Fell & Rian Treanor’s duo album - a massive favourite of ours - featuring Mark’s Mam at the keys and singing. It’s all just quite self-explanatory and self-evidentially lovely stuff.
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Small restock. Recorded by Mark Fell, mastered by Zoro Babel, includes a download of the album dropped to your account
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Limpe Fuchs - octogenarian pioneer of free improvised music, one half of Anima, and prolific soloist in her own right, is here captured on this intimate 40 minute recording improvising on the piano at Mark Fell's gaff in Yorkshire, the windows and doors wide open to capture the sound of rain outside.
Mark Fell’s gonzoid recordings of Limpe Fuchs, a longtime pal and inspiration, ribbons beautiful and curiously bluesy-jazz rhythmelodies on the Fell household. Actively playing and making music since the late ‘60s, Limpe brings an enormous depth and breadth of experience to contemporary music’s peripheries, in between avant garde, improvisation, free-jazz and krautrock. Captured ad hoc, the 42 minute recording is presented with no overdubs or edits, just a well placed mic soaking up the downpour and Limpe’s gorgeous stream of thought that appears to riff with the rain.
The downpour only grows in intensity as it goes on, to the point later on where she breaks from the keyboard to just revel in the sound of it, returning reinvigorated and adding voice to her jaunty, broken rhythms in the final quarter. From start to finish, it’s a proper pleasure to follow her turns of phrase as the notes flow as easily as the rain. In the process we’re variously reminded to the most joyous works of Emahoy Tsegue Mariam Gebru, the captivating qualities of Anne Tardos’ domestic works or Charlie Morrow actions for New Wilderness Audiographics, and perhaps most pertinently, those parts of Mark Fell & Rian Treanor’s duo album - a massive favourite of ours - featuring Mark’s Mam at the keys and singing. It’s all just quite self-explanatory and self-evidentially lovely stuff.