all compositions by: peter brötzmann (© gema / fmp publishing) and michael zerang (© munimulamusic 2005)

thanks to:
goethe institute - beirut, lebanon
illinois art council - a state agency - usa
nayla sehnaoui, sharif sehnaoui, and mazen kerbaj

performed live at the théâtre monnot, beirut on july 10, 2005 at the 5th irtijal festival of improvised music
recorded by marc codsi
mixed and mastered by lou mallozzi at experimental sound studio, chicago
artwork & design by mazen kerbaj

produced in lebanon by al maslakh


CD LINER NOTES

THE HISTORICAL CONCERTS
In July 2005, the Irtijal festival proposed two concerts(*) of the Brötzmann / Zerang duo in Beirut. This first appearance of German Free Jazz and Improv legend Peter Brötzmann on the middle-eastern/arabic underground scene definitely left a mark on both the players and the audience.
Brötzmann's raw energy found in Beirut "naturally" trained ears to react to his music. The intensity of his playing surprised at first an audience new to this kind of music, then drowned everybody in its tornado.
Zerang's performance is not a usual drummer's one. Not even in Brötzmann's standards. Rarely in the role of the accompanying rythmic partner, he is the perfect match to engage a dialog with the sax player. Passing from complex and intense rhythms to a minimalist/reductionist solo, Zerang ensorcelled the crowd, especially when he played hard-core rhythms and extended techniques on the lebanese national percussion instrument, the darbuka (or debakeh).

THE HISTORICAL CD
Besides the encounter with a new audience, these concerts were also the occasion for the first duo between Brötzmann and Zerang who share a decade of strong musicianship in groups like the Brötzmann/McPhee/Kessler/Zerang quartet or the Peter Brötzmann Chicago Tentet. The complicity between the musicians is evident from the first to the last sound, and the result is a CD that will definitely have a prominent place in the long Brötzmann history of sax/drums duos started in the seventies with Dutch drummer Han Bennink.

Mazen Kerbaj, march 2006

(*) this CD documents the second concert.



REVIEWS


Influential as it is, Peter Brötzmann's sax tone is among the most inimitable instrumental voices ever. And when his emotional content meets the uselessness of a "technical proficiency" that's right there anyway - this happens regularly in "Live in Beirut" - there's the good chance of being testimonies to the birth of something special. Enter Michael Zerang's mouth-watering performance, which couples magnificently with Brötzmann's passionate tantrums and connected individualism in four duets chock full of scintillating musicianship. Zerang is not necessarily contrary to patterns or structures; in fact, he raises serious mayhem through steady (?) pulse and interactive percussive anatomy. He also plays a mean darbuka solo on the second track, with his comrade exploring the hidden significance of tarogato with subtle responsiveness. When the pair decides to shift that couple of gears, all hell comes loose - but even Satan and Lucifer are seen nodding their head in approval. A saxophonist throwing out a gut solitude that exploits fervour with incendiary purpose; a drummer who can match his opponent punch for punch, at the same time inviting him out for dinner while working his ass off in belly-dancing rhythmic variations. No wonder that, according to the liners, the Beirut audience responded enthusiastically to this set, which in my walkman-enhanced early morning wait at the train station provided the right set off to a nondescript day. This is explosive fuel for your yawning moments, the best rebellion to being submerged by football and "Dancing With The Stars" chit-chat. Fellow commuters be damned.
Massimo Ricci | Touching Extreme

Historically beset by bombings, Beirut is a city long overdue for Peter Brötzmann's brand of cathartic musical explosives. Live in Beirut 2005 documents his Lebanese debut and is part of an initial cache of releases on the fledgling Al Maslakh label, owned and operated by Mazen Kerbaj. Kerbaj, an improviser in his own right, is perhaps best known for the blog he maintained during the Israeli bombing of Lebanon this summer. He's also served as a key organizer behind the annual Irtijal Festival of Improvised Music from which the concert originates.
With scores of recordings behind him and countless stamps in his passport, Brötzmann has long since settled into an approach akin to that of the celebrated Delta bluesman. The basic tropes of his performance strategy largely transplant from locale to locale. An audience can pretty much bank on a series of typhoon-force reed salvos, while accompanying colleagues are commonly relegated to keeping pace, adding color and staying out of mustachioed cyclone's way. The deepest pleasures arise in the tiny details and deviations in an otherwise interchangeable schematic. Stage-toppling explosives are expected, but Brötzmann has been known to surprise audiences with sudden shifts to lyrical, even tender, emotion. A handful of such detours decorate this set, most stirringly in the closing segment of "Illusion of Progress," a 30-minute immolating improvisation dominated by signature raw-boned blowing. Brötzmann caps the nitro and slowly states the somber melody to "Master of a Small House," a tune dedicated to deceased bassist Fred Hopkins that has become his "Body & Soul" over the past several years. The wounded pathos spilling from his tenor's bell washes away the excess and vehemence of what has come before. It's a tactic repeated on the brief closer "Banyan Revolution," which offers a piquant taste of Brötzmann's pitch-peregrinating clarinet.
Drummer Michael Zerang is no novice to Brötzmann's preferences, having played in dozens of settings with the German over the past decade. He comes across here like a combination of his friend Hamid Drake and historical Brötzmann foil Han Bennink, bringing along small array of ethnic percussion instruments to complement his kit. On "Yalla Kholoud," undulating darbuka beats deliver an elastic undercarriage to an excoriating tarogato barrage. Like Bennink, he's also not averse to piling on metallic detritus to add grit and dissonance to his fractured rhythms. "A Daytime Nightmare" features the fiercest and most concentrated mayhem of the date. Brötzmann blows in shrieking spouts and Zerang responds with pummeling clatter, but the clouds break in the final minutes as the saxophonist once again turns reflective in a passing spate of raw steak swing. The concert may echo a host of earlier encounters, but with the value in the details there is still plenty here to recommend.
Derek Taylor | Dusted Magazine

Douglas S. Kahn's history of sound Noise, Water, Meat finds its primary example of the scream in Lautreamont's Maldoror. Hard to believe there's not a single reference to Peter Brötzmann, the saxophonist whose existentialist scream can freeze the blood in your veins. Here's another addition to the enormous Brötzmann discography, a duo with percussionist Michael Zerang recorded during the 2005 IRTIJAL festival and released on Mazen Kerbaj's Al-maslakh label. Both musicians start in predictable energy-music mode for the first ten minutes of "Illusion of Progress", then shift to elegiac Eastern-sounding melody before Zerang's astonishing drum solo. Next comes some intriguing microtonal dialogue, and the track ends with a version of Brötzmann's tribute to Fred Hopkins, "Master of a Small House," originally recorded on the Hatology disc Tales Out of Time. On "Yalla Kholoud", Brötzmann picks up his tarogato, lending the music just the right oriental timbre, but the track's high-point is Zerang's solo on darbouka - the Lebanese national instrument, Kerbaj explains in his liner notes - and cymbals, which comes at you from the speakers like an electric cobra. "A Daytime Nightmare" is of less interest, and "Banyan Revolution" is a blues for clarinet and assorted finger-rubbed platters, on which Brötzmann's emotional power is strongly to the fore, though it's Zerang who sounds most exploratory. The track itself sounds like an encore from a physically exhausting performance, filling it out to exactly an hour in length.
Vid Jerast | Paristransatlantic

"Live in Beirut" stanowi pami?tk? ubieg?orocznej wyprawy dwóch do?wiadczonych i cenionych improwizatorów, reprezentantów ?wiata zachodniego, do Libanu, gdzie scena muzyki improwizowanej dopiero si? tworzy. Pocz?tkuj?cym, jak wiadomo, sprzyja szcz??cie, nie powinien wi?c budzi? zdziwienia fakt, ?e miejscowa publiczno?? mia?a okazj? obcowa? z muzyk? na bardzo wysokim poziomie.
My?l?, ?e czytelnikom Diapazonu nie trzeba przypomina? ani biografii Petera Brötzmanna, ani roli jak? muzyk ten odegra? w historii muzyki improwizowanej. Pomin? je wi?c, a wst?p po?wi?c? jego partnerowi oraz okoliczno?ciom powstania "Live In Beirut". Kompozytor i improwizator Michael Zerang urodzi? si? w Chicago, ale jest Amerykaninem dopiero w pierwszym pokoleniu (jego rodzina pochodzi z Iraku). Jako profesjonalny perkusita zadebiutowa? w roku 1976. W ci?gu trzydziestu lat nie ogranicza? si? wy??cznie do bycia muzykiem, ale by? m.in. organizatorem i dyrektorem artystycznym kilku tematycznych serii koncertów, prowadzi? zaj?cia i warsztaty w The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, The Dance Center of Columbia College, Northwestern University, MoMing Dance and Arts Center. Bywa? aktorem, komponowa? na potrzeby filmu, baletu oraz teatru (trzykrotnie otrzyma? nagrod? im. Josepha Jeffersona w kategorii Awards for Original Music Composition in Theater). By? cz?onkiem co najmniej kilkunastu formacji, spo?ród których czytelnikom Diapazonu zapewne najlepiej znane s? The Vandermark Quartet oraz Peter Brötzmann Chicago Tentet. Mniej lub bardziej regularnie wspó?pracowa? z wieloma wa?nymi muzykami (m.in. z Fredem Andersonem, Joe McPhee, Matsem Gustafssonem, Evanem Parkerem, Johnem Butcherem, Fredem Lonberg-Holmem, Hamidem Drakem, Kevinem Drummem). Jego dyskografia liczy przesz?o sze??dziesi?t p?yt, z których co najmniej kilka zapad?o w pami?? s?uchaczy (cho?by obsypany pochwa?ami album "Tales Out of Time" kwartetu Brötzmann/McPhee/Kessler/Zerang).
W lipcu 2005 r. Peter Brötzmann i Michael Zerang wzi?li udzia? w pi?tym Festiwalu Muzyki Improwizowanej Irtijal. Duet zagra? podczas niego dwukrotnie, omawian? p?yt? dokumentuj?c drugi z koncertów. 10 lipca 2005 w bejruckim teatrze "Monnot" muzycy przedstawili godzinny program podzielony na cztery cz??ci. Ka?da z nich prezentuje troch? inne oblicze duetu. Rozpoczynaj?cy p?yt?, blisko pó?godzinny "Illusion of Progress" to do?? typowa dla Brötzmanna, Aylerowska z ducha, ekstatyczna improwizacja, wywiedziona z nieco jarmarcznego tematu zaintonowanego na wst?pie na tenorze. Nast?puj?ce po introdukcji szorstkie i kostropate, ale jednak ca?kiem melodyjne solo saksofonu, dope?nione zostaje polirytmicznymi partiami Zeranga, którego dynamiczna gra uskrzydla saksofonist? i niesie go na skraj muzycznego szale?stwa. Gdy wydaje si?, ?e granica zostanie przekroczona, nast?puje wyciszenie i Brötzmann przez chwil? gra delikatn?, lekko bluesow? fraz?, by po chwili ukojenia, znów ulecie? w brudne przed?cia dewastuj?ce perkusyjne ornamenty krzy?uj?cych si? rytmów. Na krótko wytchnienie przynosi misterne solo Zeranga, ale po kilku chwilach zostaje ono zbrukane piskiem Brötzmannowego saksofonu i muzyka ponownie zaczyna wrze?. Dopiero po dwudziestu pi?ciu minutach ogie? z wolna zaczyna przygasa?, cho? w ci?gu ostatnich pi?ciu minut nagrania momentami znów bucha p?omie? i sypie iskrami na ko?cz?c? "Ilussion of Progress" powracaj?c? melodi?.
Utwór drugi "Yalla Kholoud" to natchnione free etno. Brötzmann gra na tarogato, za? Zerang na darbuce. Pocz?tek nagrania to ekspresyjne solo Petera podbite korzennym rytmem, nadaj?ce muzyce lekko??, której brak jest w partii tarogato. Po mniej wi?cej trzech minutach Brötzmann si? wycofuje i zostawia samotn? darbuk?, dzi?ki której Zerang zabiera s?uchaczy w niespe?na trzyminutow?, wyimaginowan? podró? po Bliskim Wschodzie. Powracaj?cy Brötzmann przez chwil? ?agodnie gra t?skn?, s?odko-gorzk? melodi?, by po kilkunastu sekundach przed?ciami poprowadzi? j? w nieopisane jeszcze przez etnografów rejony.
Utwór trzeci to szorstki i dosadny free jazz. "A Daytime Nightmare" nale?y do wrzaskliwego saksofonu i meandrycznej perkusji, wspó?odpowiadaj?cej za anarchiczny charakter utworu. Surowo brzmi?cy tenor Brötzmanna swobodnie w?druje po bezdro?ach melodii, jednak nawet w chwilach jej nieobecno?ci uwi?zany zostaje specyficznym wielokszta?tem perkusyjnych ?ama?ców. Nagle w ca?ym tym pozornym chaosie saksofon odnajduje zachrypni?t?, niemal soulow? fraz?, któr? Zerang podbija ascetycznym, lekko wycofanym groovem i w ten sposób utwór powoli dobiega ko?ca.
P?yt? wie?czy "Banyan Revolution", kolejna muzyczna podró? po Lewancie. Klarnet niespiesznie wiedzie delikatny, jakby wyj?ty z wyobra?e? o Bliskim Wschodzie temat, za? Zerang delikatnym opukiwaniem i pocieraniem darbuki zag?szcza brzmienie. To doskona?y fina? naprawde niez?ej p?yty.
Z czystym sumieniem polecam "Live in Beirut". P?yta nie jest arcydzie?em, nie jest te? najlepsz? pozycj? w jak?e obszernych dyskografiach obu artystów, jednak niew?tpliwie warto j? pozna?, bo sporo na niej emocjonuj?cej i niebanalnie pi?knej muzyki. Polecam j? szczególnie przeciwnikom Brötzmanna, bowiem jest ona dowodem na to, ?e opinia o jednowymiarowo?ci jego gry jest z gruntu fa?szywa i krzywdz?ca.
Czytelnikom chc?cym kupi? t? lub inn? p?yt? wydan? przez Al Maslakh, sugeruj? odwiedzenie strony internetowej wytwórni (http://www.almaslakh.org/). P?yta ma pewne niedoci?gni?cia od strony realizacyjnej, ale sama muzyka oraz naprawd? ?adna ok?adka, powinny je zrównowa?y?.
Tadeusz Kosiek | Diapazon