Previously unreleased archival recording of a 2012 performance from Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum’s legendary improv troupe Musica Elettronica Viva, using piano, electronics, and small instruments. As usual, the hype sticker from Black Truffle is almost a feature in itself —>>> “This is composed music written in real-time in invisible ink. There's no money back on this one. These grooves contain the same ‘deep shit’ that Archie Shepp called our music in Paris in 1968. So, expect nothing, just enjoy!” Alvin Curran
Established way back in 1966 in Rome by a troupe of high-minded American expats, MEV attempted to unify the free improv world with John Cage and David Tudor's live electronics ideas and free jazz. By 2012 they'd already gone through countless iterations and settled into the core trio of Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum - life-long friends whose contradictory instincts inspired impossibly obtuse music. 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' was recorded at New York's Bard College and features Rzewski on piano and Curran and Teitelbaum on electronics and small instruments. MEV's process is as freewheeling as their lineup, each member's contribution is often flipped on its head - there are no set roles, just sound that exists to challenge the ears, not to reinforce stereotypes.
Split into two swelling sides, the album begins with near silence that's pierced by delicate whistling and bells. Percussive creaks form a de-facto soundscape, with harmonica pulling us outsideof our comfort zone and dislocated piano notes thrusting us back. If there's a peak to the first side, it's when Curran, Rzewski and Teitelbaum let each element grate against each other, scraping screaming oscillators on freeform horn blasts and angular piano improvisations. It's blissfully dissonant material that's not for the faint hearted, but anyone drawn to the fringe of the fringe should be able to hear the gravity of this material.
The second side is even more loopy, augmenting Rzweski's bendable baroque-jazz tinkles with chopped-up samples and pea souper noise that practically slaps you in the face. Brutal in the best possible way despite often being as quiet as a whisper, 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' is a treat for the most adventurous listeners - a masterclass in surrealist improv that's got history, cultural weight and advanced technique at its core.
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Previously unreleased archival recording of a 2012 performance from Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum’s legendary improv troupe Musica Elettronica Viva, using piano, electronics, and small instruments. As usual, the hype sticker from Black Truffle is almost a feature in itself —>>> “This is composed music written in real-time in invisible ink. There's no money back on this one. These grooves contain the same ‘deep shit’ that Archie Shepp called our music in Paris in 1968. So, expect nothing, just enjoy!” Alvin Curran
Established way back in 1966 in Rome by a troupe of high-minded American expats, MEV attempted to unify the free improv world with John Cage and David Tudor's live electronics ideas and free jazz. By 2012 they'd already gone through countless iterations and settled into the core trio of Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum - life-long friends whose contradictory instincts inspired impossibly obtuse music. 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' was recorded at New York's Bard College and features Rzewski on piano and Curran and Teitelbaum on electronics and small instruments. MEV's process is as freewheeling as their lineup, each member's contribution is often flipped on its head - there are no set roles, just sound that exists to challenge the ears, not to reinforce stereotypes.
Split into two swelling sides, the album begins with near silence that's pierced by delicate whistling and bells. Percussive creaks form a de-facto soundscape, with harmonica pulling us outsideof our comfort zone and dislocated piano notes thrusting us back. If there's a peak to the first side, it's when Curran, Rzewski and Teitelbaum let each element grate against each other, scraping screaming oscillators on freeform horn blasts and angular piano improvisations. It's blissfully dissonant material that's not for the faint hearted, but anyone drawn to the fringe of the fringe should be able to hear the gravity of this material.
The second side is even more loopy, augmenting Rzweski's bendable baroque-jazz tinkles with chopped-up samples and pea souper noise that practically slaps you in the face. Brutal in the best possible way despite often being as quiet as a whisper, 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' is a treat for the most adventurous listeners - a masterclass in surrealist improv that's got history, cultural weight and advanced technique at its core.
Previously unreleased archival recording of a 2012 performance from Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum’s legendary improv troupe Musica Elettronica Viva, using piano, electronics, and small instruments. As usual, the hype sticker from Black Truffle is almost a feature in itself —>>> “This is composed music written in real-time in invisible ink. There's no money back on this one. These grooves contain the same ‘deep shit’ that Archie Shepp called our music in Paris in 1968. So, expect nothing, just enjoy!” Alvin Curran
Established way back in 1966 in Rome by a troupe of high-minded American expats, MEV attempted to unify the free improv world with John Cage and David Tudor's live electronics ideas and free jazz. By 2012 they'd already gone through countless iterations and settled into the core trio of Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum - life-long friends whose contradictory instincts inspired impossibly obtuse music. 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' was recorded at New York's Bard College and features Rzewski on piano and Curran and Teitelbaum on electronics and small instruments. MEV's process is as freewheeling as their lineup, each member's contribution is often flipped on its head - there are no set roles, just sound that exists to challenge the ears, not to reinforce stereotypes.
Split into two swelling sides, the album begins with near silence that's pierced by delicate whistling and bells. Percussive creaks form a de-facto soundscape, with harmonica pulling us outsideof our comfort zone and dislocated piano notes thrusting us back. If there's a peak to the first side, it's when Curran, Rzewski and Teitelbaum let each element grate against each other, scraping screaming oscillators on freeform horn blasts and angular piano improvisations. It's blissfully dissonant material that's not for the faint hearted, but anyone drawn to the fringe of the fringe should be able to hear the gravity of this material.
The second side is even more loopy, augmenting Rzweski's bendable baroque-jazz tinkles with chopped-up samples and pea souper noise that practically slaps you in the face. Brutal in the best possible way despite often being as quiet as a whisper, 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' is a treat for the most adventurous listeners - a masterclass in surrealist improv that's got history, cultural weight and advanced technique at its core.
Previously unreleased archival recording of a 2012 performance from Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum’s legendary improv troupe Musica Elettronica Viva, using piano, electronics, and small instruments. As usual, the hype sticker from Black Truffle is almost a feature in itself —>>> “This is composed music written in real-time in invisible ink. There's no money back on this one. These grooves contain the same ‘deep shit’ that Archie Shepp called our music in Paris in 1968. So, expect nothing, just enjoy!” Alvin Curran
Established way back in 1966 in Rome by a troupe of high-minded American expats, MEV attempted to unify the free improv world with John Cage and David Tudor's live electronics ideas and free jazz. By 2012 they'd already gone through countless iterations and settled into the core trio of Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum - life-long friends whose contradictory instincts inspired impossibly obtuse music. 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' was recorded at New York's Bard College and features Rzewski on piano and Curran and Teitelbaum on electronics and small instruments. MEV's process is as freewheeling as their lineup, each member's contribution is often flipped on its head - there are no set roles, just sound that exists to challenge the ears, not to reinforce stereotypes.
Split into two swelling sides, the album begins with near silence that's pierced by delicate whistling and bells. Percussive creaks form a de-facto soundscape, with harmonica pulling us outsideof our comfort zone and dislocated piano notes thrusting us back. If there's a peak to the first side, it's when Curran, Rzewski and Teitelbaum let each element grate against each other, scraping screaming oscillators on freeform horn blasts and angular piano improvisations. It's blissfully dissonant material that's not for the faint hearted, but anyone drawn to the fringe of the fringe should be able to hear the gravity of this material.
The second side is even more loopy, augmenting Rzweski's bendable baroque-jazz tinkles with chopped-up samples and pea souper noise that practically slaps you in the face. Brutal in the best possible way despite often being as quiet as a whisper, 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' is a treat for the most adventurous listeners - a masterclass in surrealist improv that's got history, cultural weight and advanced technique at its core.
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Previously unreleased archival recording of a 2012 performance from Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum’s legendary improv troupe Musica Elettronica Viva, using piano, electronics, and small instruments. As usual, the hype sticker from Black Truffle is almost a feature in itself —>>> “This is composed music written in real-time in invisible ink. There's no money back on this one. These grooves contain the same ‘deep shit’ that Archie Shepp called our music in Paris in 1968. So, expect nothing, just enjoy!” Alvin Curran
Established way back in 1966 in Rome by a troupe of high-minded American expats, MEV attempted to unify the free improv world with John Cage and David Tudor's live electronics ideas and free jazz. By 2012 they'd already gone through countless iterations and settled into the core trio of Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum - life-long friends whose contradictory instincts inspired impossibly obtuse music. 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' was recorded at New York's Bard College and features Rzewski on piano and Curran and Teitelbaum on electronics and small instruments. MEV's process is as freewheeling as their lineup, each member's contribution is often flipped on its head - there are no set roles, just sound that exists to challenge the ears, not to reinforce stereotypes.
Split into two swelling sides, the album begins with near silence that's pierced by delicate whistling and bells. Percussive creaks form a de-facto soundscape, with harmonica pulling us outsideof our comfort zone and dislocated piano notes thrusting us back. If there's a peak to the first side, it's when Curran, Rzewski and Teitelbaum let each element grate against each other, scraping screaming oscillators on freeform horn blasts and angular piano improvisations. It's blissfully dissonant material that's not for the faint hearted, but anyone drawn to the fringe of the fringe should be able to hear the gravity of this material.
The second side is even more loopy, augmenting Rzweski's bendable baroque-jazz tinkles with chopped-up samples and pea souper noise that practically slaps you in the face. Brutal in the best possible way despite often being as quiet as a whisper, 'Symphony No. 107 - The Bard' is a treat for the most adventurous listeners - a masterclass in surrealist improv that's got history, cultural weight and advanced technique at its core.