Sometimes, good things happen. “Plays” effectively demonstrates how sampling doesn’t have to be some crass affair but rather an entire new way of looking at performance. Ekkehard Ehlers has made albums similar to these since, but this one has a sweet spot in my heart. Each two songs serve as dedication pieces, so that adds to the emotional resonance.
The Cornelius Cardew pieces are very airy, the first one being a brightly colored drone, and the second having a darker, angrier feel to it. Perhaps this was reflecting how Cardew started out with his idealism in music, only to go out into left-wing politics. Or it could be acknowledgement that his life was tragically cut short.
“Hubert Fichte 1” opens up with one of the most abstract beginnings. With only a high pitched tone sustained other elements are eventually added, making for violently churning bass. The second part is probably my favorite thing on the whole album. A weird, smoky jazz coalesces, complete with jazz guitar and lazy horn. Even without an actual melody or core to relate to, it works well in its free form. Who knew that a German author could have such a wide range, from abstract to emotionally close? That’s at least what I get out of these two pieces, of a person spanning the worldly and other-worldly.
A mellow core appears with the John Cassavetes work. Easily the most recognizable reference here (it being the only internationally well-known figure), it has a cinematic quality to the sound. Both pieces share a similar tone of happiness and contentment. Out of all of the pieces, these two are the most accessible, containing well-done melodies and easy to follow outlines.
Brooding occurs through both Albert Ayler tracks. These are the darkest moments of the entire album, acknowledging the difficult life he had, the disappointment, and being the only person on the album to have killed themselves. Dark tones emanate without phrasing any melody. Rather, the tones interact with each other to create a sense of movement.
Robert Johnson has probably the weirdest treatment. For the first track, you hear various distorted guitar chords. It sounds like the guitar player has gotten a little drunk (what eventually killed him was a poisoned bottle of alcohol). Sadly, as interesting as the first track is, the second kills the mood. Robert Johnson 2 is simply a dance track, which feels extremely out of place considering all that came before.
Despite that poorly fitting closing track, it works. This is a great album, filled with true dedication for each of the artists mentioned.