Oh Sees Retrospective #31: Panther Rotate

 

In 2021, during a bumper-crop year for live albums and collaborations, John Dwyer released an album called Endless Garbage. Though seemingly of-a-kind with the Bent Arcana and Moon-Drenched improv records, it's actually quite a different beast. As explained by the man himself, “...one day, I hear a frenetic, free drummer playing in his garage a few blocks from me. And I think “interesting”. I stand outside his garage staring at the wall, like a fool, for a minute, then decide to leave a note on the car parked there. This is how I ended up meeting and working with Ted Byrnes. He wasn’t creeped out, and he ended up sending me a pile of truly spontaneous drums recordings from the carport to work with. I decided to have every musician come in one at at time and just take a wild pass at their track over the drums. None of these people had ever met or played together. I was the connecting thread.” So, rather than a group playing together in a room, Dwyer presented each participant with the different drum tracks and had them freely improvise over it. He also added some of his own playing, and mixed/edited the whole project into something a bit more consistently interesting and intelligible.

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

In 1998, Bill Laswell released Panthalassa: The Music Of Miles Davis 1969-1974. Though it is ostensibly billed as a remix album, Laswell did far more than just add some beats here or there or elongate the music to danceable lengths. As Allmusic.com put it, he “...occasionally deleted the rhythm sections, brought up obscured instruments, added Indian and electronic droning sounds from elsewhere on the tapes, constructed moody transitions, and premiered previously unreleased passages from Davis' sessions.” This is interesting because in some sense this makes Panthalassa a remix of a remix. Much like what Can was doing contemporaneously in Germany, Miles Davis and resolute collaborator/producer Teo Marcero would edit down tapes of lengthy jams, sometimes repeating vamps/run throughs of different song sections, other times cross-editing different takes of songs together. A great example is found on the seminal Bitches Brew album. The song 'John McLaughlin' (which features no trumpet or playing from Miles Davis at all) is actually an edited excerpt of an especially great solo from McLaughlin during a take of the album's title track.

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

Panther Rotate was released on December 11^th, 2020. As near as I can tell it was entirely done by John Dwyer, as no liner notes or info I found indicated that any of the other members of the band worked on it—well, other than obviously providing the original source material. It's billed as a remix album, and was made concurrently during the Protean Threat sessions. Before listening, I always had the impression it was just the standard modern-style remix album; the truth isn't quite so simple. The official description goes like this: “A companion LP of remixes, field recordings, and sonic experiments using all sounds generated by the hum and crackle of the desert farm.” Meanwhile, the blurb accompanying the original limited edition 3D lenticular vinyl edition of the release goes as follows: “Remixed, Reimagined, Respooled takes from the Protean Threat tapes. Served Up Piping Hot On Half And Half Colored Vinyl And Featuring A Special Lenticular Cover.” So perhaps the best way to think of Panther Rotate is as a companion piece, though in my mind it can also fairly be considered as its own thing. Even though the track titles directly reference the song names on Protean Threat, this certainly isn't as simple as 'Scramble Experiment' is just 'Scramble Suit II With Beats And A Rapper.'

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

Late in his career, Miles Davis became hugely interested in the popular R&B and hip hop of the day. Though finished after his death, Doo-Bop became an early example of mainstream jazz acknowledging the links to newer genres like hip hop and electronic music. Though far from his best album, Doo-Bop gives us a glimpse of what Miles might have continued to make. Inadvertently, it does give us a preview of the future. Album producer Easy Mo Bee took unfinished trumpet takes by Miles and built songs around them to finish the album, even adding samples and rappers in a pseudo-remix technique. It does beg the question though: if Miles Davis didn't finish/approve of the record himself, is it really his album? Is it even an album at all if some of the tracks are effectively remixes of unfinished songs?

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

Let's talk for a bit about what this album is before I get to my thoughts on it. Panther Rotate, along with the Damaged Bug side project and the recent improv collaborations he's been doing, is a clear indicator that John Dwyer is a restless spirit who wants to bring the truly experimental bent back to this creations. And mind you, I'm using the word experimental in the true sense of the word, not the lazy shorthand for “it's a weird and/or noisy album.” Hell, most of the tracks on Panther Rotate are titled with the word experiment in them! Listening to this release, I can't help but imagine Dwyer wanted to amuse himself between sessions with the full band. Maybe this started as something he was only doing to challenge himself and only later decided to release it. Who knows.

If anything, I would say there's two immediate touchstones for this album: early OCS records and Alien Soundtracks by Chrome. Now, anyone familiar with the latter may assume I'm thinking of it because Osees did covers of songs from it for the Levitation Sessions II performance. However! I had actually heard of/heard this record before their covers, and the abstract, fragmentary nature of the music on Alien Soundtracks is mirrored in the structure and feel of Panther Rotate. It's not quite a 1:1 comparison of course, and that's where the early OCS output comes into play. I'm going all the way back to the very first OCS release, the double album known variously as 1, OCS, and 34 Reasons Life Goes On Without You/18 Reasons To Love Your Hater To Death. Oh wait, on the OCS Bandcamp it's now 35 Reasons. Whatever! I digress. The point is, it's not the early folky aspects of the OCS sound but the experimental stuff that Panther Rotate calls to mind. True it's not as noisy and droney and atonal as OCS 1 can be, but the spirit and similar “throw it all at the wall and see what sticks” vibe pervades both. I mean hell, 'Untitled 3' from OCS 1 is a found sound recording of someone walking in gravel and doing something with water(?), while 'Poem 2' on Panther Rotate sets a whimsical, bizarre Dwyer poem to vintage crowd sounds and a distant brass ensemble. I don't remember any of that on Protean Threat, do you?

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

Madlib, early in his career, began to learn instruments and perform jazz under the Yesterday's New Quintet name. These records, which began releasing in 2001, were not actually a real quintet. Instead it was just Madlib playing all the instruments and doing the production. In 2003, Madlib released Shades Of Blue. Though early in his career, legendary jazz label Blue Note Records invited (soon to be legendary) jazz-head hip hop producer Madlib to take a journey through their archives and see what he could come up with. As with the equally influential work of his friend and collaborator J. Dilla, Shades Of Blue would cast a long shadow, influencing a new generation of music makers, crate diggers, producers, and beat makers, in particular the then-nascent lo-fi hip hop scene. Anyway, Shades Of Blue is a hard release to pin down, not a typical remix album at all, seeming to bring the past, present, and future together by being equally jazz and instrumental hip hop at the same time.

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

All of this leads us to....well, I'm still not entirely sure. I've been struggling with Panther Rotate, in a good way. It's a difficult record to wrap your head around, not in terms of “getting it” but in terms of “getting it and deciding if you like it.” I suspect this was and will continue to be a very divisive release in the ol' Osees discography, much like OCS 1. The simple fact is that experimental music just isn't everyone's cup of tea, and though Panther Rotate ain't exactly Metal Machine Music (which still holds up today, and just keeps getting funnier every time I listen to it) I can for sure see some fans tilting their heads, puzzled at what the hell this is supposed to be. As for myself, my reaction thus far has been similar to other experiments by bands I love, like Metal Machine Music or (No Pussyfooting) insofar as Panther Rotate is also:

1. Interesting but inessential listening

2. Not especially compelling to listen to on repeat

3. Best enjoyed on as many drugs as you can get your hands on

Like a lot of experimental releases, there won't be certain songs you gravitate toward. Rather, this is very much a collection of ideas and moments. Some are but brief flashes of chaos, like the electronic beeps and whooshes of the breakdown during the end of 'If I Had An Experiment', which sounds like a drunken, lurching, inside out version of its parent song. Others will go for extended grooves that fade in and out, or stop and start, like the opening 'Scramble Experiment', interrupted at 1:13 by a glitch escaping from an Autechre song before it continues on until 3:00 when we apparently enter a swamp or marsh with buzzing flies and mosquitoes. For my money the most thrilling parts of Panther Rotate come when no familiar terrafirma is below us and we're in the dark realms of Dwyer's restless urges. 'Terminal Experiment' presents us with a slow motion bassline that feels like it's being played by someone actively fighting falling asleep, over and over, as all sorts of flotsam and jetsam goes by in the background. It reminds me a bit (a bit!) of some of the more free floating and spacey moments from really out there Grateful Dead jams from the late 60s to mid 70s, part free jazz skronk and part psychedelic fireworks and daisies being sprayed across the sky.

When is a remix album not really a remix album?

Released in two parts initially in 1994 and 1995, John Oswald's two-CD set called Grayfolded is one of the more interesting cult items of a cult band. The title is a pun on the Grateful Dead, and as this “plunderphonics” project was officially commissioned by bassist Phil Lesh, Oswald was given full access to their vault, choosing to focus on two album length suites edited together from over a hundred different performances of 'Dark Star' from 1968 to 1993. Nowadays you can find innumerable mixes on YouTube of jam band performances, themed around certain ideas: Phish Ambient Mix, Grateful Dead Space Mix, Phish's 'Tweezer' megamix, and the like. But in his time, Oswald's project was unique, a for-fun-only release still beloved by fans who remember/know of its existence.

Kinda like what we'll tackle next time, Weirdo Hairdo.

Quasimoto- The Unseen

To say that The Unseen is the weirdest hip hop album I've ever heard feels like I'm simultaneously damning it with faint praise as well as making a statement about hip hop in general. To be fair, The Unseen is weird, but that's not why it's great (though it is one of the reasons). And while it is the weirdest hip hop record I've heard, that's not really saying much, since I'm a dilettante when it comes to this stuff.

Still, I know my weird music, and I know some weird hip hop via MF DOOM. His Operation: Doomsday preceded The Unseen by a year, and in many ways they feel like long lost cousins. That Madlib would work with DOOM on 2004's Madvillain project speaks to this, sure, but it's also the eccentric style, beats, and samples that both used which make this connection stronger. Well, I mean, the two albums do sample Scooby Doo, so the connection is already strong...though I didn't mean it that literally. It's more like how Madlib's stoned flow and his I-just-inhaled-some-helium voice as alter ego Quasimoto are a perfect foil to DOOM's sleepy and congested style. But I digress.

While Doomsday may have a higher percentage of classic hooks and beats, The Unseen is better overall. It's safe to say, you've never quite heard an album, hip hop or otherwise, that sounds like this. 'Return Of The Loop Digga' is like a miniature epic, stopping in a record store for a skit halfway through before the beat is switched up and the song continues. Sure, Madlib may also showcase some killer beats in a more traditional way, like the addictive organ loop of 'Discipline 99 Pt. 0', but The Unseen is defined by tracks like 'Return Of The Loop Digga' and 'Come On Feet', the latter of which singlehandedly could justify hip hop to an ignorant friend who thinks rap is all posturing, bragging, sex, and violence (watch the video for even more oddness). No, Quasimoto is not as outright weird as, say, Captain Beefheart, but like that legend's most out-there moments, no one else sounds like this, either.

And make no mistake: you will have to go through a slight learning curve to truly dig this record as you would with something by Beefheart. Again, the comparison is as direct as their eccentric learn-to-love-it vocals, but I refer more to how you don't know quite what to make of this music right away. It's true that Madlib never was and never will be a gifted MC, so there isn't an immediate draw there, but his style is a brilliant match for the eccentric, spaced out production. As with Trout Mask Replica, The Unseen will take some patience to unlock. Especially because, like most hip hop albums of its era, The Unseen is 10 to 15 minutes too long.

Hold on, though. Unlike most hip hop albums of its era, The Unseen has made this sprawl into part of the appeal. Where skits become annoying tracks you skip over by the third listen on, say, Ghostface Killah's Supreme Clientele, Madlib as Quasimoto incorporates them into his songs. Similarly, where there's two or three tracks you could drop from MF DOOM's Operation: Doomsday to make it a better record, there is no obvious filler or weak material here.

The Unseen was supposedly recorded over the course of a weeklong magic mushroom binge, and while that may help explain some of the weirdness going on here, it can't account for the imagination and talent on display. From this 2000 release, Madlib would go on to become one of the most prolific and influential producers/musicians of his generation, and many of his projects would gain greater recognition and praise. Yet The Unseen is a perfect distillation of what makes him so compelling as well as being a perfect case for how much can still be done with hip hop.

5 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5

Madlib- Shades Of Blue (Unedited)

Just a short review tonight while I work on all the other Essays and reviews I've got going on. Think of this as a trifle; a side project of my normal reviews, if you will. That's a good state of mind to have when also doing something like listening to Madlib's Shades Of Blue, his "invasion"/remix of Blue Note records' vaults. But that's a bit unfair, actually, because even with high expectations, a wet dream like letting someone like Madlib have full access to a jazz label's catalogue turns out to be better than it has any right to be.

Allow me an example of just what I'm babbling about. MF DOOM is a sometimes-prolific artist, and his long running Special Herbs series of instrumental tracks from his various albums and producing gigs is the kind of interesting-but-inessential trifle I mean. They function pretty well as albums in their own right, the sort of kind you might spin when a friend is over and only a couple times a year listen to on your own. It's not as good as hearing the finished products with rappers over them, in the same way that Madlib's tracks here should be "not as good" as hearing them fleshed out with rappers.

However, Madlib's old friend J Dilla likely taught him something about instrumental hip hop with the legendary Donuts, because these songs are even more fleshed out and enjoyable than you'd expect judging by, say, early Madlib circa The Unseen by Quasimoto or mid-period Madlib as heard on Madvillainy by Madvillain. But enough of that technical crap. Madlib finds some deep grooves and head nodding hooks in some unlikely places in those vaults. It's the kind of stuff most MCs would kill to rap over but not be good enough for. A non-rapping appearance by even the formidable MF DOOM on one of the tracks also speaks to how complete Shades Of Blue is without MCs.

Anyway, it comes on two records, so you know the sound quality and mastering is great. And if you're a fan of Madlib, you're probably a record hound who knows what a difference that makes. Or anyway, you're probably a record hound who'd dig this album a lot.

5 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5

J. Dilla- Donuts

There's some kind of eerie coincidence to the fact that J. Dilla died three days after the release of Donuts. As by far the purest example of his talents as producer/vinyl digging obscure sample user/beat maker, Donuts doesn't have any of the distracting posturing and bragging of the much loved Jaylib collaboration, Champion Sound, and was also fully finished by Dilla himself, whereas the majority of the material released since his death has been finished by others. There's an awareness of mortality that pervades the record, as if he knew this would probably be his chance to really prove what he could do, to make his masterpiece, with no MCs or outside help to take any credit away from him.

Donuts feels like it was made to be timeless instead of timely, to continue to influence music makers for decades to come and not merely to start a trend or short lived subgenre. It is an almost overwhelming collection, fully 31 tracks in 43 minutes, rarely staying in one place for long, though the horn break on 'Glazed' repeats to comedic effect. In general this album is not so much a mixtape of sketches for songs or unfinished loops/beats as it is a fully formed instrumental hip hop album, equally of-a-piece with 'sampledelica' albums like The Avalanches' Since I Left You as it is underground contemporaries like Madlib, not to mention obvious pre-cursors like DJ Shadow's Endtroducing..... and the Dust Brothers' production on Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique and Beck's Odelay. Which is all a long winded way of saying that Donuts feels entirely organic despite being sample based. Even the use of cut-up vocal samples on 'Airworks' and 'Stepson Of The Clapper' have a coherency which seems almost narrative, as if Dilla is re-purposing a commercial jingle to talk about something more spiritual.

While the title was apparently chosen just because he liked donuts, I feel like it's an effective-though-abstract way of describing the album's sound. 'The Twister (Huh, What)' settles into an extended, circular groove after the first 20 seconds, and in general the record has a sugary, glossy production, all combining to give the impression of, well, the music as delicious donuts spinning out of the speakers. Hmmmm maybe that's just because I'm hungry and writing this in the morning. But I digress. One can see J. Dilla's Donuts as the more soul-based, pop-leaning counterpart to Madlib's work on theMadvillainy album, which also used short songs and an eclectic stable of sample sources. Though he, too, can pull from, say, Frank Zappa as Madlib does,Donuts tends more toward the sort of soft focus horn sections and orchestral breaks that go hand in hand with 70s soul and R&B records, which definitely helps the impression of this album as having that 'sugary, glossy' sound I described earlier.

Both as an influence and as a source of beats, Donuts continues to be a presence five years after its release. J. Dilla will undoubtedly be one of those artists that we'll look back on as both ahead of his time and having died before his time, leaving a tantalizing blueprint for future hip hop producers, and really, musicians of all stripes to either follow or take influence from. Donuts is arguably the purest distillation of his genius, having none of his so-so rapping or guest MCs to get in the way. A must hear.

5 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5