Something Different

I marvel at how Henry Threadgill Zooid never seem to fall apart and scatter about everywhere.  They sound as if assemblages hastily constructed without the use of bonding agents and only the barest attention paid to the tightness of the weave.  I imagine each song as a rough-hewn ball of notes somersaulting across the room, notes flying off its surface, strands of chordal progressions flailing wildly in the air, as it approaches an unavoidable conclusion of discorporation.

These songs are too dense to be ghosts, but they float with an unsteady freedom to be considered wholly of the temporal plane of existence.

Perhaps it’s best to simply think of this music as a force of will.  It’s not so much that Threadgill composed or performed this music as believe it into existence.

Your album personnel:  Henry Threadgill (flute, bass flute; alto saxophone), Liberty Ellman (guitar), Christopher Hoffman (cello), Jose Davila (trombone, tuba), Stomu Takeishi (bass guitar), and Elliot Humberto Kavee (drums).

Threadgill, who was one of the vanguard artists of the free jazz movement of the seventies (and beyond), has consistently created music that transcends description.  As a founding member of the AACM, with his trio Air, his Sextet, Very Circus Circus ensemble, and his current Zooid ensemble, Threadgill found a home for his unique compositions and instrumental arrangements.  That trend continues on the current Zooid release.

This is an album with a playful cadence.  Sped up or eased down, the staggered hop and skip of percussion makes for a cheerful demeanor that should elicit smiles even when the music is at its most ambiguous.  Album opener “A Day Off” immediately speaks to these qualities.  Ellman’s guitar plays hopscotch with tempo, while Hoffman’s cello swiftly X’s the spots just before and after Ellman’s strings touch down.  Threadgill’s sax leapfrogs over Takeishi’s bass leapfrogging over Kavee’s drums.  Davila sits by the wayside, chuckling on tuba.  It’s an odd tune, yes, but very friendly, and in the grand scheme of Threadgill’s career, it’s the type of unexpected that one should come to expect.

“Tomorrow Sunny” features guitar twang, trombone sighs, and rapid-fire flute, with the rhythm section maintaining a brisk gallop.  It builds slow, builds strong, and becomes an inexorable force that shows no sign of ending until, suddenly, it does.

“So Pleased, No Clue” features the sporadic groan of bass, wavering sax notes, and asynchronous plucking of strings.  It’s a picture of a dripping faucet if Salvador Dali were the plumber.

“See the Blackbird Now” is sunlight refracted through a magnifying glass.  Bass flute flutters about, plucked guitar strings nimbly tiptoe through the composition, cello offers a serenade to no one in particular, and tuba plays tug-of-war with bass.  The tune drifts and darts back and forth in a concentrated area, quiet and unimposing, but with a concentrated strength that could burn leaves.

“Ambient Pressure Thereby” is a song for the sprinters.

“Put On Keep / Frontispiece, Spp” returns to similar territory of “See the Blackbird Now,” but is more typified by unsubtle whispers and unmasked gurgles and burps.  The song quivers while scraping a sharp edge over fresh ice.  It’s a lesson that tiny beauties can peacefully coexist with unapologetic flaws.

And that’s the final album tune.  There is one final track which recites album information for the visually impaired.  It’s something that I address in yesterday’s column, here.

It’s an album that presents its own particular challenges, but offers the kind of results that make the effort so damn rewarding.  Speaking for my own experience, I’ve been familiar with Threadgill’s music for many many years, always had a distant appreciation for it, sometimes liked it well enough.  However, seeing him perform with the Zooid ensemble live at the Chicago Jazz Fest a few years back, it was like the heavens opened up and everything became clear to me.  Now, Threadgill’s music sounds more vivid and fascinating to me than ever before.  When I speak of “rewards,” that’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.

Released on the Pi Recordings label.

Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

The Something Different review series highlights albums that are unlike anything else, and which embrace the best qualities of creative vision.

*****

This is one of those albums where it’s best to leave your preconceptions at the door.

Yes, the personnel section of this recording has several names firmly situated in the UK Jazz scene.  And, yes, Basho Records does cut its teeth as a label of modern jazz releases.  But just ignore all that.

It’s albums like Welcome to Bat Country by The Golden Age of Steam that serve as further evidence that the tag of avant-garde should be recognized as its own genre, and not as a sub-category of other genres.

This is not an avant-garde jazz recording, nor is it free jazz.  This is just plain ol’ avant-garde.

And it really doesn’t sound like anything else around.

Your album personnel:  James Allsopp (tenor sax, bass clarinet), Tim Giles (drums, percussion), Kit Downes (Hammond organ, Wurlitzer), with guests:  Alex Bonney (trumpet, electronics), Ruth Goller (electric bass), James Widden (violin, viola), Alison Holford (cello), Andrew Plummer (spoken intro on one track), and Freddie the cat (who purrs on one track).

I’m surprised this album doesn’t make me smile more than it does.  The album presents plenty of twists and turns.  The emotional spectrum isn’t vast, instead takes a connoisseur approach to how it demonstrates its evocative side.  The music is scattered, and rarely doubles back over the same territory.  This is the kind of music that really should make me smile.  But it doesn’t.

For what amounts to fun compositions, this is terribly moody music.  This is whimsical music of a serious nature.  Contemplative sections are accompanied by spaceship electronic effects.  Not long after the music gets the foot to begin tapping enthusiastically, the ensemble sneaks in and nails the shoe to the floor.  There are tunes that sound like carnival music for a circus populated by clowns that drink whiskey, never smile, and tell people to scram.  When sax wails, it sounds like moonlight, and it shines over a land that organ promises hides all kinds of monsters.  Blindfolded musicians unaffected by the lack of sight, because when interplay is everything zen, well, sight ain’t actually a prerequisite.  This is not so much an album of songs as it is a collection of disconnected sounds corralled into tunes.

And, really, that’s a big part of its charm.

An established groove crunches right along up until the floor drops off and the tune drifts away into a fading drone.  Distant voices and electronic blips walk through the same door at the same time as the fiery post-bop forms.  A swaying ballad suddenly spins in place and reveals itself to be a golem of underground post-rock.  Peaceful moments shouldn’t be relied upon, and unruly dissonance will eventually pass.

It’s not an album.  It’s a state of mind.

And thinking of it that way, well, now the music is making me smile.

Released on the Basho Records label.

Jazz from the UK.

Download a free album track at Bandcamp, courtesy of the artist and label.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

And you can download an entire free jazz sampler at the Loyal Label bandcamp page.  It includes a track from the album, from other Basho Records releases, and other artists and labels involved in the UK Jazz scene.  It’s a great way to discover new music.

The Something Different review series highlights albums that are unlike anything else, and which embrace the best qualities of creative vision.

*****

I ran into Seval‘s 2 while going through one of my weekly scouring sessions of the jazz new releases section.  It’s the second release by this avant-garde quintet.  Their first, I Know You, released in 2011, either got past me or didn’t catch my ear.  But their new album grabbed my attention, and I made it a Jazz Pick for my weekly eMusic column from 10/17/12.  In the brief synopsis, I describe the album as “Beautiful, and moody as hell.”

It’s a different kind of beauty.  This is not a pretty album.  It’s not the kind of music that will be splendid accompaniment for watching sunsets or playing on the iPod as you walk through the countryside.  This is the kind of beauty that emanates from within, when a creative piece shines with originality, confidence, technique, and inspiration.  Not unlike the effect of watching astronauts hurtle out into space, art has an inherent ability to remind us of the heights to which humanity may aspire to and achieve.

Your album personnel:  Sofia Jernberg (voice), Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello), David Stakenas (guitar), Emil Strandberg (trumpet), and Patric Thorman (bass).

These musicians are all part of the Swedish new music & free improv scene.  Cellist Lonberg-Holm has an exceptionally wide variety of music attached to his name.  Aside from his own admirable discography, he’s a member of free jazz groups Peter Brotzmann’s Chicago Tentet, Vandemark 5, and Valentine Trio (w/Frank Rosaly and Jason Roebke).  He’s also been a part of modern jazz group Keefe Jackson’s Fast Citizens, ambient post-rock group Boxhead Ensemble, and indie-rockers Wilco.  Even within those groups’ particular genres/circles, they are outliers for the most part.  So, here you’ve got a musician, Lonberg-Holm, who’s cut his teeth with a disparate group of disparate groups.  Or said better, Longberg-Holm almost specializes in strange and engaging music.

Seval’s 2 is an intriguing mix of avant-garde and pop music that weights heavier to the former.  These are haunting tunes that stretch out to the fringes of sound, while simultaneously reaching inward to the center of things.  Catchy melodies of sing-song lightness are hybridized with the frenetic gruffles of trumpet blasts and industrial-strength cello.  Sometimes that script is flipped, and Julesberg’s vocals become guttural utterances and a steel-stringed guitar bounces cheerfully along to an equally chipper bass line.

And that script gets flipped often, even within the same song.  “Revolution Song” has Julesberg delivering the melody, conversely, with a lovely sweetness and at times as a growled call to arms.  The pop-rock opening begins to careen out of control, using the opening melody as the catapult to wilder territory.  The thrilling part of this song is the method which sudden leaps into dissonance and chaos have equally sudden transitions back to beautiful restatements of melody.  It gives all the interludes of improvisation a sense of purpose and cohesion by tethering themselves to their melodic hometown.

Album opener “Children Of Monsters” has Julesberg offering up a wispy lullaby to a humming cello and shimmering guitar. Trumpet solos soft and patiently. Bass provides the shadows.

On “Details,” Julesberg and Longberg-Holm open with the heart of a love song, but their occasional flirtations with warped notes imply that the pop center might not hold.

“Light Brush” is audio taffy, with a sugary blitheness to its set-up, and wildly careening passages in the development.  The song gets increasingly warped and twisted before ending with a brief return from whence it began.

“Boredom and Bliss” begins with a low rattle and hum.  Trumpet twitters nervously and Julesberg is specterally ominous.  This song isn’t haunting… it’s just plain haunted.  And as it drifts off like a ghosts, the album transitions immediately to the amicable pitter-patter of Julesberg’s vocals on “Only One,” which has an Elliot Smith somberness, undercut by the caustic picking of Stakenas on guitar.  Trumpet harmonizes with Julesberg as she ascends up on the register and forgoes words for animalistic sounds.  Trumpet matches her tone.  Cello and bass subversively instigate faster tempos.  And then guitar, which was the original culprit in steering this song into avant-garde territory, becomes the peacemaker, offering up a kinder, gentler face.  The song wraps up with a marching cadence before ending as it began, but with greater volume and fanfare.

As with all of the albums I review in my Something Different series, this won’t be music for everybody, but everyone should give it the opportunity to connect.  It’s the kind of music that won’t have mass appeal, but will likely inspire some passionate reactions from some listeners.  It’s the kind of music that leaves its mark.

Released on the 482 Music label.

Lonberg-Holm is from Chicago, but the rest of the group is part of the Stockholm, Sweden music scene.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

The Something Different series isn’t really an official Bird is the Worm review category, though with some of the albums I’ve got lined up, I probably should institute one.  I use the designation to highlight albums that don’t really sound like anything else around.  They won’t be capital-J Jazz.  Without exception, they’ll transcend genre.  They’re their own thing.  They’re Something Different.  I’ve got two of those right now.

Let’s begin…

Oddarrang – Cathedral

Drummer Olavi Louhivuori really had no choice but to form the Oddarrang ensemble.  Performing and recording with groups led by Mats Eilertsen and Tomasz Stanko, Louhivuori was never gonna find a spot for these compositions floating around in his head.  Cathedral is a soundscape of post-jazz, post-rock, modern classical, folk, ambient electronica, and drone, which means it’s none of these things as much as all of them.

However, even though it’s a jumble of influences, the music is laid back and easy on the ears.  Yes, the compositions present a variety of folds and wrinkles, but it’s still just a warm blanket… lovely music that fills up a quiet room with peaceful sounds made for drifting through the day.

Your album personnel:  Olavi Louhivuori (drums, percussion, synths, piano), Osmo Ikonen (cello, vocals, church organ), Ilmari Pohjola (trombone, noise, voice), Lasse Sakara (acoustic & electric guitars), and Lasse Lindgren (acoustic & electric bass).

Horns soar effortlessly, and appear at times to just hang there suspended in place.  Guitars refract notes, and sometimes twang ’em.  Trombone and cello collaborate to provide the cool gurgle of a forest stream, where trombone is the rocky current and cello the placid surface bathed in sunlight.  Drums take their time adding asynchronous syllables to a measured conversation.  Ambient music for the thinking man on a day spent dreaming.

This is strange and beautiful music, and nobody but this ensemble could’ve created it.

Released on the Texicalli Records label.  Technically released in the final month of 2011, I’m including it under 2012 reviews.

Music from the Helsinki, Finland scene.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3

Katherine Young – Pretty Monsters

Well, they sure nailed the spirit of this album with the title Pretty Monsters.  Led by bassoonist Katherine Young, this quartet delivers scarred, thrashing music that elevates Beauty as a concept transcendent of absolutes.

There is nothing pretty about this music.  And as far as monsters go, this music has sharp claws and fangs, but a smile like a muppet.  This is an album that a person could warm up to.  It’s likable in its way.  It’s Something Different.

Your album personnel: Katherine Young (bassoon and electronics), Owen Stewart-Robertson (guitar and electronics), Mike Pride (drums, percussion), and Erica Dicker (violin).

Best tracks juxtapose a refracted sway and pretty tones with frenetic screeches and hard dissonance, especially when one sonic trait gradually forms from the midst of the other and the other fades into the backdrop.  Fourth track “Crushed” is a prime example of the engaging soundplay.

Two songs that don’t fall into that mold, but have their own charismatic identities are track six “Deuterium,” replete with elegant strings atop choppy guitar chords…  a ballad for those happiest in loneliness.  Also, second track “Patricia Highsmith,” which has a stoned headbangers Rock pulse that gets increasingly magnetic as the song develops.

This ain’t an album that’s gonna appeal to everybody, but it is an album everyone should at least give the time of day to.  It’s albums like this that will have such a provocative effect on some people (albeit, perhaps but a small group) as to leave them thinking about music in an entirely different way.

Released on the Public Eyesore Records label.

Music from the Chicago scene.

You can stream the album, and purchase it, on the artist bandcamp page.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

That cool album cover art is by Rob Patterson.

Katherine Young is also a member of chamber music quartet Till By Turning.  Go on and listen to some of their music on their bandcamp page.  It’ll give you a different facet of her music.

For myself, there has always been a strong connection between music and reading.  It’s very rare that I read anything without music accompaniment, and I often start a long day of music writing (and listening) by reading first.  But the connection is far denser than that.  There are books, dear to me, of which I would struggle to recall most of the basic plot points and players, and yet I can vividly recall the music playing as I read those stories.  Novels by William Gibson, Thomas McGuane, Jerzy Kosinski, Clarence Cooper Jr. and Ursula Le Guin and comic series by Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Paul Jenkins, Mike Mignola, and Frank Miller.. the basic facts of those stories will fade from my memory over time, but I’ll always associate them with albums by Bill Frisell, Clifford Jordan, Mercury Rev, Benjamin Koppel, Marcin Wasilewski, Esbjorn Svensson Trio, Spiritualized, Brian Blade, and Men at Work (yes, Men at Work… I was just 12 years old, so don’t start; besides, their music paired amazingly well with Le Guin’s The Tombs of Atuan).

And though doubtlessly some stories pair better with some music more than others, I think that, ultimately, a bond between music and story will form if they’re the real deal, if they, as creative pieces, incite our imagination and inspire creativity within us as readers and listeners.  Because, if so, then our imaginations will be the hand that intertwines story and music.  Creativity is a highly flammable concept, and god bless all those who throw matches up in the air.

Anyways, when I saw the premise behind Scott Robinson Doctette‘s Bronze Nemesis, I was instantly hooked by the premise alone.  Originally a set of compositions performed live in 2001, the music is based around Robinson’s love of the Doc Savage pulp fiction novels.  Robinson has built compositions and song titles around the Doc Savage stories, including “storyline” notes associated with each album track, which come included with the booklet in the CD package.  All of this makes for a nifty premise and an endearing effort.

Plus, the music is just plain fun.

I’m talking about the kind of fun that comes from a good story.  Characters and plot and setting that pull you right into the words if you just allow yourself to be taken away.  That’s what the music of Scott Robinson Doctette’s Bronze Nemesis asks of you.  Enjoy the zeal with which Robinson pursued this music and the obvious love he has for its subject, both in the notes that float out of the speakers, but also in the care he took in how the CD booklet and art was presented.  Allow yourself to get swept up in his enthusiasm.  Why wouldn’t you?  It’s fun.

Can a person enjoy this album without knowing the premise and composition attributes and references?  Sure, of course.  It’s sort of oddball music, in that mad scientist way… you’re not exactly sure what potion is in the vial or what the robot’s raison d’etre is, but there’s no denying the genius that went into their creation.  Interesting, and maybe dangerous.

Your album personnel:  Scott Robinson (composer, tenor, bass, mezzo-soprano and contra-bass saxophones, alto clarinet, flute, theremins, bird whistle, fish rattle, gong, euphonium, slap-stick, bells, chime tree, magic wand, various other percussion and instruments), Randy Sandke (trumpet), Ted Rosenthal (piano, harpsichord), Pat O’Leary (bass), Dennis Irwin (bass), and Dennis Mackrel (drums, metal tubes, treme tera).

The deep growl of menacing woodwinds commingles with theremin trills and bird whistles.  Trumpets sometimes comfort, sometimes warn of dangerous times ahead.  Often this music keeps its rhythmic intentions a secret, revealing itself to the listener suddenly and without warning, as if launching a hunting net.  When the music does swing or bop, it evokes imagery of late night jazz clubs when the evening is young and the calendar has only barely left the 1950s behind.

Contra-bass saxophone stirs the pot on “Fortress of Solitude,” bringing its gruff, but lively energy.  This album is an intricate tapestry of percussion, particularly on “The Metal Master.”  The music weighs heavily toward the eccentric (and to grand effect), but the bass solo of “The Golden Man” is refreshingly succinct, and a nice plateau before the story returns to the complex.  The “Land of Always-Night” opens and returns with alluring flute sections, a nifty piano reverie between the two.  “The Living Fire” is an explosion of saxes and trumpet, a brief but intense conflagration.  Deep voiced and resonant instruments set the tone on “The Man Who Shook the Earth.”  The album ends with “The Mental Wizard,” the music providing a satisfying sense of finality to its revelry, that life goes on even after the last note has sounded.

Of course, with characters like Doc Savage, the story never ends.  Fictional characters are borne from a solitary writer’s imagination, but eventually, they become part of a collective imagination, an amalgamation of the thoughts and dreams and hopes of anybody who comes in contact with that particular character.  It’s a way that stories grow into something much bigger than what is encapsulated by words on a sheet of paper.  Scott Robinson added his own chapter to the Doc Savage story, and it’s a richer tableau because of it.

Released on the Doc-Tone Records label.

It appears that the album is only available for purchase as CD and Vinyl, from the label site HERE.  And also from the Downtown Music Gallery site HERE.  The album may become available at CDBaby and/or other outlets at some future date.

*****

And now, for the director’s cut of this review:

As mentioned earlier, when I heard the premise of Bronze Nemesis, I was already hooked.  For my own amusement (and, perhaps, yours too), I decided to jot down some stream-of-conscious notes as I listened to the album for the first time.  I did this before reading the liner notes or even perusing the song titles.  I decided to do a one-draft music-to-word association on my first album listen.  I include those below as I initially wrote them, editing only for egregious crimes against grammar.  I also include with them the actual song titles and a few of Robinson’s notes from the CD booklet.

Let’s begin…

Track One, Dave Sumner (me):  Something evil, slithering through the darkness.  A force rises up to challenge it.

Track One Song Title:  “Man of Bronze”

Track One, Scott Robinson notes:  “A musical portrait of the amazing Doc Savage, the ‘arch enemy of evil’… [the conclusion] serves as a transition which portends the looming dangers Doc will face.”

T2, DS:  Exotic locales, mystery in the air, can you trust the helpful person?  Perhaps they work for the bad guy.  Be careful, an alien presence is near.  A beautiful woman steps into the center of the room.  She gestures to you to come dance.  You dance for minutes that go on for a glorious eternity.  You are about to kiss, when the an evil presence reveals itself.

T2 Song Title:  “The Secret in the Sky”

T2, SR notes:  “An amazing intelligence… streaks of fire and destruction…”

T3, DS:  The bleak winter landscape is worsened by the incessant blizzard hampering your progress through the mountainous countryside.  The dark castle awaits.  Is she there, held captive?  And what casts the shadow that is not far behind?

T3 Song Title:  “He Could Stop the World”

T3, SR notes:  “A crazed genius wields an unopposable force… which can halt all forms of communication, alter men’s minds and even affect the climate…”

T4, DS:  Your sports car races through the early dusk night.  The city lights are just ahead.  You will be meeting the secret contact at Nellie’s bar on the west side.  That is where you will be told the secret location.  It’s a happy bar, and you are a bit sad to be there strictly for business.  The pianist plays cheery tunes.

T4 Song Title:  “Fortress of Solitude”

T4, SR notes:  “…Doc’s secret laboratory retreat, hidden away… in the Arctic wastes… Here he can work, free of any distractions…”

T5, DS:  What lies behind the glowing door?  An inhuman sound issues forth.  Bravely, you step through.  Swirling mist, it seems to speak to you.  For such an ominous presence, the words are soft and calming.  Some monsters are really friends.  It seeks revenge, and it asks you to help it.

T5 Song Title:  “Mad Eyes”

T5, SR notes:  “…suddenly the air is filled with hideous creatures, where seemingly nothing was before! …the approach of impending madness.”

T6, DS:  [Editor’s Note:  This song begins with a voice announcing, “The Metal Master!”].  A futuristic iron creature with antique adornments creaks to life.  Its joints ache, its gears shift unwillingly, and rust scratches and scrapes in metal veins.  The metal man moves slowly, then picks up steam.  He is almost lifelike.  He approaches to within a foot of you.  He looks you over grimly, matching your gaze, a grim look upon his metal face.  He smiles.  Hero and sidekick are re-united.  You kick back with a beer and talk about old adventures and plans for new ones.  Drunkenly, you walk off together, into the night and what it may bring.

T6 Song Title:  “The Metal Master”

T6, SR notes:  “A power hungry scientist develops a machine… the world is helpless before the Metal Master.”

T7, DS:  Rain hits the shelter, accentuating the loneliness of the mission.  Even heroes get the blues.

T7 Song Title:  “The Golden Man”

T7, SR notes:  “A golden man rises miraculously from the sea with the power to peer into the future…”

T8, DS:  The moonlight calls out sweet notes of cold comfort.  The breeze is gentle, brings comfort to an injured body and bruised soul.  The light of the moon coalesces, and a bridge is cut from it.  Moon creates, small and lithe, come down from the moon and help the hero along, carrying you to your destination.  Even as you see all about you as it happens, you dream.  And in dream, you find relief from the pain, and understanding of what’s at stake if you fail.  Wisdom doesn’t always come easy or make sense, but you understand more now than you did then.  When you wake, the moon creatures are gone, and the sun bares down on you mercilessly.

T8 Song Title:  “The Land of Always-Night”

T8, SR notes:  “A hidden underground world of perpetual darkness… a Land of the Lost where mushrooms grow as big as men.

T9, DS:  Alien sounds in a graveyard.  Is the final conflict near?  Weapons are raised.  Shouts heard around the world.  The clash ensues.  Heroes rise, heroes fall, it is the endless war.

T9 Song Title:  “The Living Fire”

T9 SR notes:  “A terrified man must get to Doc Savage with an awful secret…”

T10, DS:  The windstorm lashes at your brow, steals the water from your mouth, and blinds you from your path.  Demons afoot.

T10 Song Title:  “The Man Who Shook the Earth”

T10, SR notes:  “The title says it all.”

T11, DS:  The battle is won.  Wounds bandaged, scars sealed.  He sits at a bar, keeping to his thoughts, and thinking of her.  Furtive glances from his drink to the door across the room.  The bartender pours you another.  You tell him to make it a double.  The door across the room never moves.

T11 Song Title:  “Weird Valley”

T11, SR notes:  “Is the secret to eternal life hidden away in the remote Weird Valley?”

T12, DS:  Back at HQ, the gang is all there.  It’s a celebration, though muted.  The Professor has rigged up a new distillation machine which makes 100 proof gin fizzies.  The hero has a smile, but is sullen.  But wait, who is that slender figure in silhouette?  It’s her!  She’s here!  And so is the band.  They dance.  And when the dance is over, they finally get that kiss.

T12 Song Title:  “The Mental Wizard”

T12, SR notes:  “Doc encounters a golden-haired beauty from a hidden civilization…”

Stream-of-conscious analysis of my stream-of-conscious notes:  Robinson got his thoughts and themes across pretty damn well.  I nailed it a few times, especially in recognizing allusions to weather or evil creatures revealing themselves.  However, I believe I misinterpreted the evil robot as a drinking buddy, and now as I write this out, I probably had Doc Savage around alcohol more in this review than in the entire fiction series.  Of course, all of that pales in comparison to my astute observation of the appearance of the mysterious lady in the final chapter/song.  In fact, I think I’ll stop right there, on that note.

The End