There are moments during the listening experience of Mr. Otani and Mr. Aoki’s disc that I’m not sure what is captured on disc and what is contributed from my environment. While listening to the opening track, a minimalist bass solo mixed with a futurists walk through an urban sprawl, I heard birds chirping. But, ah, they were outside of my window fighting over bread scraps. Then they were part of the recording. Cool. Next, horses and cars passed (on the disc). Otani’s capturing of everyday sounds from traffic to chewing brings the music, ala John Cage, out of the concert halls and nightclubs into the neighborhood. Otani, who has collaborated with the likes of Bob Ostertag and Elliot Sharp, favors the sounds of a movie soundtrack, allowing the listener to draw her own visual. Noise as music is not a new concept. Sampling without the mindless beats of hip-hop is an exercise in clarity. Otani and Aoki’s work reminds me of playing with a refrigerator box as a child, inventing flying machines and race cars in my head. The freedom of sampling seemingly random sounds, allows for a flight of imagination not forced upon me.
I love jazz because next to my kids, it's the love of my life.
I was first exposed to jazz by Joe Rico from a tiny station in Niagara Falls in 1954 when I was 13.
The best show I ever attended was Maynard Ferguson who blew the roof off Massey Hall in the late 50s.
My advice to new listeners is to listen to everything you can and then listen again.