Customer Reviews

Septober Energy

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Produced by Robert Fripp, and written by Keith Tippet, who played piano on several Crimson albums and featuring members of Soft Machine, Henry Cow, and ELO; this one can be a tough listen unless your really into noisey modern composition. Some great moments, good solos (except the guitar, why didn't Fripp, or Frith for that matter play ?). A little like Phillip Glass in places. Overall sound is closer to HC and SM than KC'S Lizard and Islands eras which some have compared it to. As you've probably noticed there is more than one pressing of this available. The one I've listened to is a two disc version that sounds like it was recorded off a vinyl album,as you can hear some surface noise in the background. I understand that the shorter version may have come from a better source.

Centipede were a kind of early '70s free jazz/prog rock Band Aid. The then wunderkind pianist Keith Tippett assembled as broad a church of musicians as any you could find outside of "Escalator Over The Hill" - rock is represented by members of Soft Machine, King Crimson, Blossom Toes and Patto; Brit fusion pioneers Nucleus are here almost in their entirety; a vast gallimaufry of musicians at the then cutting edge of Brit jazz, including the crucial South African contingent; old mates from his hometown of Bristol; and even a scratch string section of students at the Royal College of Music. Inevitably, with 55 musicians in the band (plus 2 apologies for absence in the sleevenotes!) Tippett did bite off more than he could chew. The music is a not entirely successful mix of R&B, Sun Ra and Penderecki, and rather than working as a unified piece of music, "Septober Energy" tends towards a series of interesting bits not particularly linked very well. The highlight is the long finale "Part 4," a kind of avant-"Hey Jude" where Elton Dean's saxello wails over the orchestral swell before everyone goes into a free-form scrum. The glaring omission, of course, is producer Robert Fripp, who was supposed to play guitar on the sessions but was somewhat overwhelmed by the difficulties in recording which the huge line-up presented (saxophonist Larry Stabbins later recalled that everyone had to queue up outside the studio before they could go in and do their bit). When playing live, soundchecks were known to take up to eight hours. Blossom Toes man Brian Godding was therefore left with the unenviable job of sole guitarist and doesn't quite fill all the gaps. Another problem is that three drummers are at least one too many - Robert Wyatt and John Marshall would have been enough in themselves, but Tony Fennell (who doesn't seem to have been heard of before or since) simply clutters the rhythm up. Worth investigating, though - there are some glorious episodes of music within, and the free-form riffing in the second section of "Part 3" may be of interest to fans of Radiohead's "National Anthem" who wish to join some dots.

I had the great fortune to see the live rendition of this work, an outstanding sonic and visual experience burned into memory. Simply, "the" collection of "the musicians" working in the avant of rock and of jazz, at the time, in the UK. Held together with compositional flare and monumentally good piano playing and singing. Nothing touches this work yet, nothing has emerged from the UK since that has even attempted to to walk the same ground.

I still love this album. I first heard this in the college in the mid-70's and was blown away by the cacophony of sound. It may sound a little disjointed at first, but I was going through my vinyl collection recently and it still sounded incredible.

Those of you expecting snippets of Soft Machine and/or King Crimson circa Lizard or Islands will twitch your heads trying to bite your ears off at what a vast piece of aural nonsense you've just purchased. Centipede is such a gosh awful mess that it is difficult where to start. The bottom line is that too many people were involved in this project-over 50-each of them trying to improvise something to show off their jazz prowess (thought Julie Tippett was a terrible singer before? you just wait until you hear her improvised wailing); what they ended up with was a sonic hurricane of musicians playing barely in tune and trying to play louder than their neighbor. The only track remotely listenable is the last Septober suite where Elton Dean plays perhaps the only recognizable solo on the whole album. Just goes to show, too many cooks really do spoil the broth.