Naked City - 1993 - Absinthe

Naked City

1993

Absinthe

01. Val De Travers (6:13)

02. Une Correspondance (5:04)

03. La Fée Verte (5:10)

04. Fleurs Du Mal (4:06)

05. Artemisia Absinthium (4:30)

06. Notre Dame De L'oubli (For Olivier Messiaen) (4:47)

07. Verlaine, Pt. 1: Un Midi Moins Dix (4:23)

08. Verlaine, Pt. 2: La Bleue (6:01)

09. ...Rend Fou (6:03)

John Zorn / alto saxophone, vocals

Fred Frith / bass

Joey Baron / drums

Bill Frisell / guitar

Wayne Horvitz / keyboards

'Absinthe' is the last, & by far the strangest album of Naked City's catalogue. Rather than returning to their trademark genre-blending jazz core sound, for 'Absinthe' Zorn opted to do something entirely different. The members traded in their instruments for microtonal & prepared guitars (Frisell & Frith), bags of trash (Baron), & samplers & synths (Horvitz & Zorn). The result is a very atmoshpheric & haunting ambience highly reminiscent of the late sixties British free improv group AMM. The titles of the tracks, keeping in style with the title of the album, are inspired by icons of the Decadent Movement of late 19th century France, with titles like 'Fleurs du Mal', named after the book of the same name by the amazingly influential poet Charles Baudelaire, & the 'Verlaine' pieces, named after Paul-Marie Verlaine, both of which were avid drinkers of Absinthe. The album's artwork is equally dark, featuring disturbing sculptures by surrealist Hans Bellmer that accent the music to great effect. Though I really enjoy this album, it is probably my least favorite recording of the Naked City catalogue. It lacks nearly all of what I would normally listen for in them, but if one is able to meet the album on its own terms & hear it as it is (as opposed to how it could be) then it can still be a very interesting & rewarding listen.

y's final album is by far its most puzzling and enigmatic. Downtown maverick John Zorn's compositional workshop for a rock band completed its run of seven albums with this quiet, almost ambient, collection. Some of the pieces, such as "Une Correspondance" and "Artemesia Absintheium," get somewhat noisy, with industrial clattering, insect-like whines, feedback, and complex noises in layers. The closing piece, "...Rend Fou," is atonal electronic rattles, a precursor to the glitch electronics of Mego artists Pita and General Magic rather than representative of any group member's background at the time. However, the bulk of the album is more like Val deTravers, composed of Bill Frisell's detuned guitar over a tranquil bass and Joey Baron's bowed cymbals. The tribute to French composer Olivier Messaien, one of the few mystical visionaries in 20th century music, is quietly beautiful sustained guitar notes over a simple heartbeat-like rhythm. Baron's percussion work is often very subtle, a quiet crackling like a fire on La Feé Verte and the first Verlaine (where Zorn himself takes care of the only vocals on the album). The titles reflect the artist's continued interest in the avant-garde of the 19th century, where the green liqueur absinthe (known as the Green Fairy, La Feé Verte) was a favorite among artists and poets, including Paul Verlaine and Charles Baudelaire (author of the controversial collection Les Fleurs du Mal). Nothing in Naked City's previous oeuvre prepares the listener for this collection, a complete reversal from the hardcore and thrash, but looking forward to Zorn's interest in minimalist pieces like Redbird and Duras.

In all my life I've never heard something as inhuman, cold, unsympathetic, mysterious, violent, black and devoid of light as "Absinthe". Someone commented that it "borders on insane". It is BEYOND insane. It is a reflection of the distorted, utterly solitary world only the insane could perceive. "Absinthe" is the terror of the worst dream you've ever had emerging as an unapologetic cloud from your speakers. The more you focus, the more clearly you can see how each piece fits into some sort of monolithic space that completely dwarfs you and swallows you with its hugeness. Every song is a different expression of this same vertigo, ending with the thankfully meaningless, cleansing and welcome static brainwash of "...Rend Fou" ("...Returns Insane"), bringing you back into reality.

This is often accomplished through odd, minimalistic sounds. And yet it is meaningful without question. I see the reviews here as evidence that my reaction is not unique. It's impossible to imagine "Absinthe" in the realm of ordinary music, composed by a human being, with a thinking mind and feelings. It feels like "Absinthe" is not a human creation; there is no evidence of a soul.

This is the most wicked, otherworldly album I know. And I can hardly imagine that will change anytime soon. It really has little to do with John Zorn's other work, great though it is, or the other Naked City albums, great though they are. The only possible comparison is the 17 minut title track to "Grand Guignol", a masterpiece in its own right.

Recommended to those who think I might be exaggerating. I dare you to listen to this in the dark and really let it sink in. For anyone else, you may not know what you're getting into.

There's not much that John Zorn touches that doesn't enliven the darkest soul. This CD is no exception. I once listened to this CD in the middle of the night whilst staring at the ceiling. I had to take the earphones off because it started to give me the creeps. It takes a little longer to inflict its torture, but like all good things...it likes to take its time. I particularly like the sound of what i think are flies - buzzing on track five. I was attracted to the excellent cover art as well, which is inspired by the work of Hans Bellmer.