review 2 The Wire

The compilation Not Necessarily 'English Music', put together a couple of years ago by David Toop, opened up a begrimed window into a neglected garden of 70s free music in Britain. Cornelius Cardew and various improv players are becoming better documented from this period, but who now knows how groups such as Naked Software, Gentle Fire and Intermodulation sounded? Tapes, if any, languish in archives, private collections, or were consigned to the dustbin long ago in despair at their ever finding a willing audience, as other life choices and priorities surely kicked in.

The International Carnival of Experimental Sound, which occurred at London's Roundhouse in August 1972, was a product of this time. It was intended by its promoter, the idealistic American Harvey Matusow, to convene anti-establishment musicians, performance artists, film makers and dancers under the theme "Myth, Magic, Madness and Mysticism". John Cage participated, and AMM were one of around 300 billed artists including David Bedford & Lol Coxhill, naked cellist Charlotte Moorman, composers David Rosenboom, Michel Waisvisz, John White and Christopher Hobbs, Sweden's Fylkingen collective, Portsmouth Sinfonia, Spontaneous Music Ensemble, and The Taj Mahal Travellers. At the Roundhouse you can hear a very different AMM than the one that is still active today. The unit was in an intermediate phase after Cardew left, leaving just drummer Eddie Prevost and saxophonist Lou Gare. A few year later, when guitarist Keith Rowe came back to the fold, Gare moved out - the duo format had been too liberating. He relocated to Exeter, although he continued to play with Prevost (they even performed at the Vortex in 2002). But they were more closely associated allied to free jazz back here, and the 'J' word is not one you could ever comfortably use to describe the group today.

Gare was and remains a sold, agile player - there's something of the Prestige-era Sonny Rollins in his tone at times, but he remains fleet of foot and never locks into anything like a key during 45 minutes of music. The interplay is superb, as you'd expect. Prevost thrashes wilder and for longer than he tends to these days, though his tattoos and magnificently controlled rolls, which can suggest a manic obsessive carefully pouring mung beans into a biscuit tin, are audible as a signature even 30-odd years ago. The performance has been retrospectively titled "The Sound of Indifference", a reference to the audience's apparent lack of interest - spatterings of tentative applause, creaking doors and the occasional cough pepper the set. The remarkable thing about AMM is that their concentrated soundfield neutralises such intrusions, absorbing them into the business at hand. A remarkably clear sounding record of this most dedicated Improv group in their element.

Rob Young in The Wire issue 243 May 2004