Like so many star-crossed melodramas, the Eddie Chatterbox story ends in California under the strain of producers who bury the Chatterbox classic jazz sound under layers of mash up, much of it stolen whole-cloth, kind of like the George Benson story if Eddie Van Halen had been involved. Portions of a jazz session released under the title of “The Hills Have Jazz” are revisited, sometimes with bluegrass on top. Finally, Chatterbox’s dream of a movie career is dashed as his performance as a film professor hits the cutting room floor. The final volume in our series exploring the Chatterbox philosophy: play Bird licks no matter what else is going on.

Project Omnibook:  the Bruce Gallanter reviews

            As the main force behind Downtown Music Gallery and one of the most avid music listeners and gig-goers in history, the comments of Bruce are something I take seriously, once past the basic watermark of not giving a flying fuck what anyone thinks about anything I do. 

             Herewith are his comments regarding the six volumes in the Eddie Chatterbox “Omnibook” series. Enthusiasts who are mystified by the content of these recordings may find Bruce’s comments enlightening. 

         Bruce’s patience and love of weirdness is truly appreciated. As an artist the chance to comment on a review is too rare to pass up when circumstances dictate, so in response to some of Bruce’s comments about collage techniques, I would trace my own interest in this to recordings heard as a teenager on underground radio in Boulder by Charles Ives, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Tod Dockstader and George Crumb; the latter two also had a local presence during this period.  Further on I became quite inspired to get deeper into this art by things I heard during my travels, two events stand out in particular: (1) an encounter between several large machines of demolition and a large concrete block building in Amsterdam (the machines made by the Van Vliet company!) and (2) listening to simultaneous sets by a rock band (upstairs) and a jazz band (downstairs) at the Court Tavern,  New Brunswick, New Jersey.

VOLUME SIX;  CHATTERBOX FREAKER BUMOUT

Volume Six features Doc Chadbourne on guitar, banjo & assemblage, Walter Malli, John Page & Brian Walsh on saxes & clarinets, Dan Clucas on cornet, Carey Fosse on electric guitar, Tony Trischka on banjo, Pat Thomas on keyboards, Bill Barrett on

harmonica, Jimmy Carl Black, Toshi Makihari and Richie West on drums. This is certainly an eclectic line-up of musicians from varied scenes: Bill Barrett, Dan Clucas & Richie West from L.A., Tony Trischka from NJ, Pat Thomas from the UK and Makihara from Philly. Plus we get a few Charlie Parker covers as well: “Scrapple from the Apple”, “You Go to My Head” and “Dexterity”. Since Doc Chad doesn’t list who is doing what or when, it is hard to tell exactly. What does work is the way the good Doc has assembled this ever-changing swirl of connected parts. Chadbourne also inserts off things like an interview/discussion about violence in movies influencing folks to be more violent. It is Chadbourne’s own playing on guitar or banjo that is at the center of most of what happens here with layers of samples, some vocals or select noises, scattered throughout, most often utilized as a running commentary to Doc Chad’s twisted yet inspired playing or his own voice. Occasionally Chad will sample a rap, funk (James Brown) or rock song, mostly as varying changes in direction. When Chad breaks into the bebop licks of “Dexterity”, it sounds as if we are sailing through a strange history of music, jazz, rock, country, noise, improv, samples, all part of one connected world. Like the other five volumes in this Omnibook series, this disc is long (73 minutes), so be patient since there is quite a bit to take in and figure out. Everything is connected or related and hence it works. It seems that Dr. Chadbourne has taken the post-modern experiments or collages invented by Frank Zappa (in the Mothers of Invention) and then John Zorn (during the early Downtown Scene days) and made them his own. At one point, we get an audio letter sent by Derek Bailey to Doc Chad which adds a certain charm to this already bizarre sonic journey.