LaRM day 74 (Charlatans-Rhys Chatham)

I never really got the Charlatans. I mean I think I know that they were a decent rock act and all that, but I never got excited if 'The Only One I Know' came on at the indie disco. Forever: The Singles (2006) isn't a complete overview of the tunes released as promos, and because it covers 16 years and 9 albums there's been some judicious selection and the early period with the big hit singles is given only equal footing with the later, less commercially successful stuff. There's a very clear turning point here too, everything up to 'Tellin' Stories' is instantly recognisable, pop songs with a distinct character and sense of purpose, everything after is well-crafted, workmanlike rock music. It's sort of sad in a way, and I guess it was partly to do with the various misfortunes that befell the band - everything after 'Tellin' Stories' sounds tired, resigned and it varies wildly in quality ('My Beautiful Friend' is absolutely dreadful, 'A Man Needs To Be Told' a great little song, sort of the Stones by way of Grandaddy).

I've never been much of a fan of Ray Charles, but as he's one of those titanic figures in popular music I couldn't refuse the 5-album freebie. I do think that releasing 15 albums over four years is stretching yourself a bit thin and that's amply evidenced by each of the albums taken singly. I also have a bit of an issue with the marketing of Ray Charles - where's the humility for God's sake?! If I were him I would have baulked at the idea of calling myself "The Great" and "The Genius". Anyway, second album, The Great Ray Charles (1957) is a fairly bog-standard selection of jazz covers done with a bit of gusto, but as it's all instrumental stuff you can't help but think of the extraordinary things being done in Blue Note's studios at the same time, and it reminds me that Charles' stuff is essentially pedestrian at best. Third album, Ray Charles at Newport (1959) is much better, a live album with a handful of vocal performances which lift the humdrum jazz stylings a bit and really highlight how influential Charles would become in the development of soul. There's still a lot of second rate jazz noodling, but it's a marked step forward. Seventh album The Genius of Ray Charles (1959) is similarly tied to trad jazz and R&B but given a soulful twist by Charles' gritty vocals. There are a lot of standards on The Genius of Ray Charles and you need to be able to place yourself in the time to hear what could possibly have been exciting about the album, but it was by all accounts a fairly radical departure from usual trad standard covers I guess.

Thirteenth album The Genius Sings the Blues (1961) is where things really start to come together and the soul sound that is most associated with Charles becomes completely the focus. It's a great album with some old jazz, blues and R&B standards given a serious working over and finally Charles sounds like he's understood exactly how to apply his voice to this stuff. Despite the reputation that The Genius of Ray Charles, I think it's not a great album all told and The Genius Sings the Blues is much, much better. Finally we come back down to earth with fifteenth album The Genius After Hours (1961), which was recorded at the same time as The Great Ray Charles and is a similar piece of work, ostensibly being some instrumental jazz cuts played with enthusiasm but no innovation and the album has little really to recommend it beyond the sense that it's a relaxing, comforting listen on a dark evening.

And to end the day it's the massed guitar noise concrete tsunami of Rhys Chatham's A Crimson Grail (2010). It's a superb piece of noise composition and I feel more and more exhilirated with each wave of drone noise that washes past. The logistics of putting the thing together were impressive enough (it was commissioned for performance in the Sacre-Coeur basilica with 400 guitarists (plus 16 bass players and percussionists), and for recording there were planned two live performances in the open air in New York, featuring 200 electric guitars, the first completely washed out by storms) but the final result is extremely impressive indeed. It's evocative, contemplative and utterly immersive, in no way a simple wall of sound - indeed for the majority of the running time the whole thing is very spacious and very quiet, building to its rolling and repeating crescendos. Of course, you need to have a taste for this sort of stuff in the first place, otherwise it'll just sound like interminable noise, but if you do dig the style, then you'll love it. To my mind it's always been peculiar that Glenn Branca has always got the props for this sort of stuff when Chatham was doing it first and has always done it much more subtly.