Evan Parker has played very occasionally with pianist John Tilbury before (particularly when guesting with AMM), but this is their first recorded duet Eddie Prevost's sleevenotes seek to locate the work of Parker and Tilbury as that of autonomous radicals outside of 'monopoly capitalism', but despite this his rhetoric about their musical 'heroism' merely burdens them with yet another mythology.
Two Chapters sounds dated at first The whole tonality, the extended instrument techniques, the off-plane juxtaposition of sounds any of it could have been recorded in the late 60s/early 70s and nobody would be able to tell the difference. Both musicians have been willing to embrace new technologies, but this collaboration is defiantly 'traditional' in its approach. Free improvisation has long since passed the stage when it could claim to be breaking with the genre cliches of jazz — it has found its own tradition to replace them. Nobody would mistake Two Chapters for being located anywhere other than at the centre of that stylistic tradition. What's normally emphasised about music of this sort is the talent, intuition and social sensitivity of the musicians involved, and this album can't escape that however much this listener might like to ignore the musicianship and concentrate on the pure recorded sound. Tilbury and Parker may well have been nervous when they made this album, but their interaction is absolutely superb. No great musical empathy is required to recognise such a brilliant partnership such as this, particularly on 'Which Shews That There Are More Ways To Kill A Dog Than Hanging', one of the two lengthy improvisations that dominate the album. Blisteringly fast sax tootling from Parker and raindrop-falling piano from Tilbury are contrasted against lower register clumps of reverberation and flaky, polyphonic seagull impersonations. It's a glorious, immersive experience.
At times the sound is simply gorgeous in its richness and colour, and the duo are superbly responsive and alert throughout. Tilbury in particular is content to hold his fire when necessary and let ego take a back seat while his piano sits silently. The other long piece, "In Which The Listener Will Perceive That In Some Cases Madness Is Catching', is notably less startling, but once it gets going still has no shortage of staccato incident contemplative languor, and oddly entertaining oppositions. Two Chapters is one of the most impressive free Improv albums I've heard for some time. Perhaps it does all sound like an escapee from a previous era, but since the music's so successful, that may just make it timeless.
Brian Duguid
The Wire (UK) June 2000