CECIL TAYLOR - Conversations with Tony Oxley
Jazzwerkstatt
Cecil Taylor (piano); Tony Oxley (drums)
Recorded February 20, 2008 at Kammermusiksaal der Philharmonie Berlin
I have been listening to Cecil Taylor all my jazz life. He has always been a challenge. It is not true that he has not changed. He has. If anything, he has become more challenging. The fact that he is uncompromising, an attitude that he maintained all his life, is admirable, if not heroic. The antagonism and the incomprehension of audiences who resented the fact that Taylor did not sound like Oscar Peterson did not deter him.
There is no one like Cecil Taylor, he is unique. You can’t compare him to anyone, you just have to accept the massive musical edifice that he has erected over the years. He has never really been accepted by the classical music world, although much of Taylor’s music sounds like the further reaches of some 20th and 21st century composers.
One recommended way to access Taylor is to think of him as a drummer using the piano as an elaborate tuned drum, ten fingers clicking the keys to probe and eventually produce an overwhelming rhythmic torrent until you can hardly believe that it will be sustained. The fury and anger sometimes subside and you hear a gentleness that rarely lasts for long, just a short interlude before the tumult is rebuilt. Sometimes it is hard to see that Taylor’s extreme, atonal style as an essential part of the jazz tradition. Nevertheless, it is possible to argue that the almost orgiastic reaching out and beyond is what the best of jazz should be doing.
Tony Oxley has threaded his way through jazz in a different way. If you look at his discography you see work with John Surman John Mclaughlin and Ronnie Scott, Bill Evans, Kenny Wheeler, Derek Bailey. Oxley has expanded his kit over the years so that now to call him a drummer is understating what he does. Taylor said that Oxley‘s percussive playing excited him like no drummer since Sunny Murray. Oxley is not as close to the tradition as Murray and his rhythm has more forward movement, not as turbulent. Oxley’s kit with its impressive array of percussive surfaces, bongos, bells, wide range of cymbals, metallic objects has been slimmed down from one he had earlier in his life. Guitarist Derek Bailey described the earlier kit as drums - eight, various sizes and texture; cymbals, fourteen, various sizes, thicknesses, weights, sounds; cowbells - five, from six inches to sixteen inches; wood surfaces - five, wood blocks and oriental skulls; saucepans - two.
The improvisation on this album is total from both players. This is listening music. You get the impression that Oxley listens more but Taylor is obviously aware of the variety of percussion effects that Oxley produces and occasionally you can hear that the deep influence that Oxley has on pianist partner.
This wild duet is split into four sections and the intensity varies, stretching both men as cymbal splashes complement notes from the higher reaches of the keyboard. Sometimes the music stops and all we can hear is silence before the momentum gathers again. This is exciting music that demands complete attention, your absorption, and is rewarding in a way that is quite rare.
Reviewed by Jack Kenny
Jazzwerkstatt
Cecil Taylor (piano); Tony Oxley (drums)
Recorded February 20, 2008 at Kammermusiksaal der Philharmonie Berlin
I have been listening to Cecil Taylor all my jazz life. He has always been a challenge. It is not true that he has not changed. He has. If anything, he has become more challenging. The fact that he is uncompromising, an attitude that he maintained all his life, is admirable, if not heroic. The antagonism and the incomprehension of audiences who resented the fact that Taylor did not sound like Oscar Peterson did not deter him.
There is no one like Cecil Taylor, he is unique. You can’t compare him to anyone, you just have to accept the massive musical edifice that he has erected over the years. He has never really been accepted by the classical music world, although much of Taylor’s music sounds like the further reaches of some 20th and 21st century composers.
One recommended way to access Taylor is to think of him as a drummer using the piano as an elaborate tuned drum, ten fingers clicking the keys to probe and eventually produce an overwhelming rhythmic torrent until you can hardly believe that it will be sustained. The fury and anger sometimes subside and you hear a gentleness that rarely lasts for long, just a short interlude before the tumult is rebuilt. Sometimes it is hard to see that Taylor’s extreme, atonal style as an essential part of the jazz tradition. Nevertheless, it is possible to argue that the almost orgiastic reaching out and beyond is what the best of jazz should be doing.
Tony Oxley has threaded his way through jazz in a different way. If you look at his discography you see work with John Surman John Mclaughlin and Ronnie Scott, Bill Evans, Kenny Wheeler, Derek Bailey. Oxley has expanded his kit over the years so that now to call him a drummer is understating what he does. Taylor said that Oxley‘s percussive playing excited him like no drummer since Sunny Murray. Oxley is not as close to the tradition as Murray and his rhythm has more forward movement, not as turbulent. Oxley’s kit with its impressive array of percussive surfaces, bongos, bells, wide range of cymbals, metallic objects has been slimmed down from one he had earlier in his life. Guitarist Derek Bailey described the earlier kit as drums - eight, various sizes and texture; cymbals, fourteen, various sizes, thicknesses, weights, sounds; cowbells - five, from six inches to sixteen inches; wood surfaces - five, wood blocks and oriental skulls; saucepans - two.
The improvisation on this album is total from both players. This is listening music. You get the impression that Oxley listens more but Taylor is obviously aware of the variety of percussion effects that Oxley produces and occasionally you can hear that the deep influence that Oxley has on pianist partner.
This wild duet is split into four sections and the intensity varies, stretching both men as cymbal splashes complement notes from the higher reaches of the keyboard. Sometimes the music stops and all we can hear is silence before the momentum gathers again. This is exciting music that demands complete attention, your absorption, and is rewarding in a way that is quite rare.
Reviewed by Jack Kenny
